A Rider For the Queen
by LadyPiratte
Summary: She wasn't allowed to become a knight, that went to her brother. That was his honor. Her honor was to be a Rider, a Queen's Rider. But honor is too much to ask a girl, when all she wants is revenge.
1. Default Chapter

-**_A Rider for the Queen_**

_**Chapter One: In blood they'll pay...**_

_Revenge isn't something someone should long for.  
__It isn't honorable.  
__It destroys the lives of those who wish to seek it...  
__Lady Tamaida of Ninequor, in a lesson to her children._

She had wanted to be a knight, like the legendary Lioness or Lady Knight Keladry, but her brother, a year older, had gotten the privilege of becoming a page. She had been at ten year old tornado around her home and furious for weeks. It came down to the fact that her parents could only afford to send one of the siblings and her brother had been older. She understood that now, but at ten years old, it had been unfair. Her parents did repay her, by allowing her to train for the Queen's Riders. For the fifteen year old Teirra of the northern fief of Ninequor, it had been a blessing.

It had been at time when the war with King Maggur was winding to a close. Without Blayce and his killing devices, it had only been a matter of time before he would fall. Teirra had field training early on because of the king and Blayce, and while war made her sick, she thrived on helping where she could, but that didn't include the infirmary. She had to bite her cheek to keep from fainting at the sight of blood. The Queen's Riders quickly learned to send her on reconstruction duty, or scouting. She was good at scouting.

It was the end of summer of her seventeenth year. By this time next year, she hoped to be well in the ranks of the Queen's Riders, officially. At ten, she would have scoffed the Riders and preferred the King's Own or the Knights. Now, she would readily defend the Rider's name. To young Teirra, the Riders were far superior to the Own.

Today she was going to visit her brother, who would undergo the Ordeal of Knighthood come Midwinter. He was in Corus with his knight-master, Alyxander, back from the Scanran border. Teirra couldn't wait to see him. It had been so long since the two siblings had been together as brother and sister. Both their professions that taken them far from each other.

"Taex!" She waved a hand as he called to get his attention. Anyone who didn't know the siblings would have thought they were twins by appearance. They shared their mother's black curls and their father's grey eyes. Teirra's nose was more delicate than Taex's and both were rather on the tall side. Their parents were always proud to call their children beautiful and boasted it often, when they could.

Taex turned to Sir Alyx for a moment, then bowed to his knight master before coming over to her. His knight master turned to talk with Sir Gareth the Younger in the meantime. Once free of his duties to his knight master, he jogged to meet his sister, smiling like their father in such an eerie way that it sent a chill down Teirra's spine..

"Teirra, my lass, I used to be shorter than you," Taex stopped and bowed.

"Well, you grew, plain and simple. At least I feel short now. That's a new occurrence." Teirra smiled and when she couldn't stand it, jumped up and hugged her brother. Even at five feet nine inches, she had to reach up to hug her brother's six foot five inch frame.

Taex pulled back and help up an arm to escort her as they walked, proper gentleman behavior. She sighed, her brother was always so stiff, even around her. "How have the Riders treated you? Well, I hope."

"Very," Teirra shrugged, uninterested. "Of course, the war was a downer. They kept me out of the infirmary." Teirra really didn't want to talk about the Riders and the war. The war was a rather dark memory in her book of usually light memories. She wanted to hear more about him.

"Good, I know how you faint. Do the teas still help your allergies?" Taex looked at her, his brother concern clear in his eyes.

"Very much, mother," she shoved him lightly. "The dust doesn't bother me so much anymore. The healer says I'm growing out of it."

"Good, mother was worried. Your her little girl, you know, precious and perfect." Taex patted her arm seriously.

Teirra rolled her eyes. "Please, I beg you, let's not talk about me. I live with me, I don't want to discuss me. How about you? And what of the war?"

Taex's face drained of color and he looked away. He stopped and dropped her arm. "Let's not talk about that. War isn't gossip."

Teirra stepped back. Afraid she'd offended him, she said, "I'm sorry. I know that; I've seen it too. I just thought we'd share news, like other friends and soldiers." She watched him. Taex wasn't his usual self she knew before he became a squire to Alyx. He had teased her constantly and had been much more childish, now it was like he was her mother and he was older, more sullen. Teirra hated it.

"I just remembered I have to assist Sir Alyx with something." Taex, still turned away, started to leave abruptly. He was never smooth with unwanted exits and Teirra had told him that fact several times before.

"Taex," she pleaded. "I am sorry." He didn't reply, he just kept walking. Teirra sighed and worried after him. She just hoped he'd snap out of whatever held him before his Ordeal of Knighthood. It would do him no good to be in such a state when he went through it.

"Lady Teirra!"

Teirra whirled around at the call. It was one of the Riders hostlers, Monty, calling for her. Shrugging, she trotted over to the stables to see what was the matter. Monty hardly yelled so, he usually sent out messengers if he needed something from them.

"Get your beast in his stall, lass. He's in a temper." The stocky middle aged man pointed at the painted gelding, the hostler red faced and ill tempered. Prancer was a young horse, newly broke for her and skittish. When Teirra was around, the gelding was fearless and calm, but put a stranger and someone new near him and he could be troublesome. It was a mystery to Teirra everyday.

"I'm sorry, Monty. He was behaving this morning." She walked past the hostler to march up to Prancer. "You," she put her hand gently on his muzzle. "Behave. Monty is a good man, if not angry at this moment." She glanced back at Monty, then back at her horse.

The horse shook his head as if to protest, but Teirra stared hard at him. "Prancer, be good and I'll bring back an apple." Teirra was relieved when he seemed to behave or at least pretend to behave on her account. Bribes always worked with him. Were she another, she may have had to call on Daine, the Wildmage, for help, but Teirra was talented in horse magic. It was useful in a battle and around the stables, but not much else in her opinion. "He should behave, at least until I bring an apple."

Monty smiled and patted her shoulder as she went by, a way of forgiving her for her horse's actions. "Ye a great help, lass. Ye should talk to the Wildmage. Ye and she could do a great help 'round 'ere."

"Me? Ha, no. I'm just a rider with a talent." Teirra waved him off. She could never stand before such important people as Daine, the Lioness, or Master Numair. Teirra wasn't worthy. She hardly felt worthy to be among the Riders.

"Yer a good lass, Lady Teirra." Monty smiled and gingerly approached Prancer as she left.

Teirra, once free of the stables, headed to where the new pages would be arriving and should be at the moment. While she didn't worry about the pages, Teirra wanted to reach the practice courts to keep her sharp and on her toes. They were the best courts and offered the most challenging partners, once they got over the fact she was a girl. If luck had it, there would be newly made squires there, who hadn't found a knight master, to challenge.

Today, she was lucky enough to find a partner in the talented squire, Victor, a year younger than her brother and on leave, like Taex. She had only met him a few times. He was stronger than her and after a few parries with the sword, her arms had begun to ache horribly. No wonder she wasn't knight material, she'd been smart to join the Riders, though their training was not piece of cake. She would have to fight for her victory, as usual.

In the end, she had won, but exhausted herself. She'd only won through speed and cleverness and the slightest bit at the most. She didn't realize they had an audience until she moved to leave and heard the clapping. She blushed deeply with the bit of applause. She really didn't deserve it in the least.

"I'm sure the girl would give you a run for your shield, Alan." A big knight nudged a slightly smaller one with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes.

The knight called Alan, laughed. "I've learned to respect women as warriors." He bowed to Teirra before she could get away. "Well done, my lady."

"Are you going for your Ordeal?" The big knight asked. His friend elbowed him; obviously, he was being far too noisy.

"Be polite, Domitran." Alan scolded the big knight.

"No, my lords. I am, or hoping to be, a Queen's Rider." Teirra replied quietly. Men always made her quiet and shy, much to her mother's frustration, knight's especially.

"My, one of these days the Riders are going to out do the Own." Domitran smiled, friendly.

"Not if I can help it," Alan winked teasingly, making Teirra's blush brighter.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your lovely lady, Alan?" A heavy-set knight, just shy of Domitran's height, with thin blonde hair appeared around them, his eyes laughing.

"I am Lady Teirra of Ninequor," Teirra gave a quick bow rather than a curtsy before anyone could say anything further. She wanted to introduce her own self. After all, the knights didn't know her name and she didn't want to embarrass them in front of a fellow knight.

"She has more manners than you," Domitran clapped Alan on the back rather roughly.

Alan glared at Domitran, then smiled at Teirra. "Forgive me, Lady Teirra. I am Sir Alan of Pirate's Swoop and these two are Sirs Domitran and Mattieu of no where important."

Teirra bowed her head in acknowledgement to the trio. By now, she was so self conscious she thought she'd explode. These were definitely knights and one was the son of the Lioness to boot. She just wanted to find Taex and lazy about. This was far too much stress. She wasn't bred for important people to talk so casually to.

"Are you as good with a bow?" Mattieu, the heavy set, blonde knight, smiled at her, polite, but challenging.

"Are you joking? The Riders excel with a bow. Come, Lady Teirra, show these men how good the Riders are." Domitran came and clapped a hand on her shoulder, rather hard. Teirra nearly stumbled. "Me and you against these boys, here."

Teirra had to look up. He was at least an inch taller than her brother, if not more. As much as she wanted to find Taex, she couldn't turn this down without being rude. And Taex would never forgive her if she didn't at least try. He was stickler for trying. "I suppose I could agree. Sarge wouldn't like it if I slacked off." She referred to the Riders training-master.

Domitran shook her shoulder. "That's a lass." The big knight released her and led the group past the armory to retrieve bows and a few arrows, then to the target fields. Teirra was self conscious the whole time they walked. She felt much shorter than she actually was and more frail. Accomplished knights wanted her company? Teirra shook her head in confusion.

"There we are, that farthest mark." Mattieu pointed down to a target just within range of their bows. Teirra looked at her bow. She didn't have the bulk and shear strength these men had. Teirra knew she'd fail; she'd never tried to hit something _that_ far before.

Mattieu lined himself up first, confidently taking his stance like he had dozens of times. He released a total of two arrows, each striking close to the red mark in the center. Inwardly Teirra cried as Mattieu turned smugly to them. "Beat that, Dommy, my lad."

The big knight frowned and shook out his shoulder. Methodically, he knocked an arrow and sighted.

Alan leaned over to her from their spot on the railing. "Archery isn't Domitran's strong point. A big man like that isn't dainty enough for anything but a long bow. Mattieu is just lucky most times."

"Shut your mouth, lad. I'm fine with a bow." Domitran retorted back at them. A moment longer and he released and set up another. His two arrows were no closer than Mattieu's, which the big knight was rather proud of. It seemed Mattieu was a fair shot, more so than Alan made him out to be.

"Now for the small ones," Mattieu bowed to Alan and Teirra. Alan was no shorter than herself, but next to the tall Domitran and heavy-set Mattieu, they were small.

Alan was the best shot, nearly hitting the target with both arrows and hardly any set up time. Domitran and Mattieu rolled their eyes as if it happened everyday and drove them crazy with his accuracy. Teirra expected the son of a legend to be excellent. He couldn't be anything but excellent; the pressure would be too great.

"Aim a little higher. It is precision, not strength that counts in archery." Alan told her as Teirra walked to take her stance.

"Yes, my lord." She nodded like an obedient student. She raised her aim only slightly, as Alan had suggested. The first arrow flew wide and barely made the target. Embarrassed and frazzled, she re-knocked an arrow. Drawing a breath, she aimed. Teirra didn't want to make a fool of her name and her brother's name. Honor drove their family, if she embarrassed herself like she was doing, she'd dishonor their reputation for strong warriors and skilled fighters.

"Relax, Lady Teirra," Alan called to her.

Teirra couldn't. She had fired under combat situations and was less nervous than this moment. She was a very good shot, on most days, but not today. Teirra finally released her arrow. It hit just outside Mattieu's arrows. Teirra deflated, she'd hoped to do better than that.

"Ah, don't worry about it, lass." Domitran came up beside her, leaving Alan and Mattieu at the railing. "It is in the field that counts. They're still boys."

"Lady Teirra," Alan called from the railing urgently. Both Domitran and Teirra turned. Taex was standing among Mattieu and Alan, pale and eyes rimmed red.

Teirra's heart stopped. Taex looked like he had been crying. Taex _never_ cried, not so noticeably. Teirra ran to him and the trio moved a little ways from them. "Taex?"

Taex thrust a wrinkled letter at her. To Teirra, it broke her heart. It told her that her mother had died, a bandit attack when she was out in the fields. Several other women from their nearby village were dead as well, many of whom, helped raise the siblings. Teirra stumbled back until she hit the railing. The knights glanced at them wearily, but kept their peace. Teirra shook her head in disbelief. It couldn't be. Her mother was _stronger_ than that, and smarter. A bandit attack couldn't have taken her down.

"We must go home." Taex replied, voice raw from the tears he held back. He sounded so distant.

"No, you need to be here for the Ordeal. They were so proud to know it was coming up soon. I'll go. I'll talk to Sarge and Commander Evin immediately." The words were hollow to Teirra. She couldn't believe she was saying them.

"Teirra..."

"No, you need to stay and honor the family. How could she be -" Teirra stopped, not wanting to speak further. The knights were still watching. She had to be brave.

"I don't know. I would go after the bandits who did this, but..." Taex looked at his hands.

Teirra nodded. Taex was far to honorable to go after the bandits in revenge and loose his chance at his shield. "I'll... try and ask Sarge about it. They are bandits and the Riders protect the far-to-reach fiefs." Taex looked at her with pleading eyes. The same eyes that they shared, and she knew she couldn't say no to him.

"She's gone, isn't she. She's really not going to be here anymore." Teirra muttered. Taex nodded and left, head hanging and sobs shaking his shoulders. There was little more they could say.

Once gone, the knights came over to her, all of them concerned at the siblings obvious distress. "Lady Tamiada of Ninequor, my mother and several of those who raised me, have been killed." Her words were so formal and final. It didn't sound like herself.

"Lady Teirra, I am sorry for your loss," Alan consoled her politely.

"Be brave, lass." Domitran squeezed her shoulder.

Teirra nodded. She would try her best. For now, she needed to talk to Sarge or the Commander of Group Nobility, the eighteenth group of the Riders and her group, about going after the bandits who killed Lady Tamiada and her friends. They must have sensed her urgency because they left her alone, the note still in hand.

She was headed back toward the stables when a runner found her. "Lady Teirra of the Group Nobility with the Riders?"

Teirra nodded wearily. It had better not be Prancer again, she didn't want to deal with it. "Yes?"

"Good, I've been asking far too many people. A message for you." The runner handed over the slip of paper and ran off, no doubt to hand another message to another noble, the poor lad.

Teirra was surprised by the information there. Group Nobility was going into Ninequor territory to investigate the bandit attacks. Her mother and her friends had not been the only one's attacked by this supposed same group. Teirra smiled, that saved her a trip to her superiors. Now she could go home, make sure her father was coping well and find the group that killed her mother. She would make sure they would pay their dues, in blood if that was the case.

_

* * *

Author's Note on the Chapter: This is my first Tamora Pierce fanfiction and I'm not sure I'd call it fanfiction at all. I created my own characters into her wonderful world. I didn't want to touch such beloved characters in her books for fear of ruining them, not just for me, but others who may read my work. I hope I can represent the world of Tortall and the small bits of canon in my little story accurately. Thank you for taking the time to read this short chapter._

_Note 2 after revision:_ I decided to reword a few things, fix the typos and add more to bits and pieces here and there. I added the most to the relationship between Teirra and her brother, Taex. I wanted to feel a sense of history between the two without a ton of words.


	2. Chapter Two

**_Chapter Two: In shadows they come..._**

_Honor is a virtue to live by.  
__It controls your morals and your respect for others.  
__It makes you a better person, but honor isn't something that should dominate your life.  
__Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to Teirra when she asked about honor._

A few days out from Corus, Group Nobility was preparing to set up camp for the night on their way to Teirra's home fief. Teirra helped Sereous and Jak set up camp. The other two riders were only two years older than Teirra and the most comical duo Teirra would ever meet, at least when they were together. They were constantly bickering about the simplest of things and always found time to help Teirra keep a humble head. Out of the seven Riders in Group Nobility, they came from the richest families, which didn't mean they worked less than Teirra and some of the others, they were just more proper, from their upbringing. It was what made the duo so much fun.

Teirra was unsaddling Prancer and rubbing him down as Jak began setting up a campfire to make the group dinner. Teirra doubted they would actually be able to eat what Jak cooked for them. He didn't have a great reputation for being a cook. Last time, Teirra had been ill from his cooking.

Sereous was setting up the packs and rolls that were left for them to unpack as the rest hunted for their dinner or scouted around them. Sereous was meticulously arranging them in one of her favorite defensive patterns. Teirra could never quite understand why she did it, only that she did. When the rest got back, Wyhon, their mage would protect them much better than anyone of them could ever with their eyes and ears, or Sereous' arragement.

Sereous dropped her own pack to the group with a thump. "What is this? Because we're the younglings, we get camp duty? Camp duty is the bottom of the ladder as far as I can tell. I don't like being at the bottom."

Teirra rolled her eyes, taking the usual complaint with a sigh. "But, take this into account, it could technically be seen as the most dangerous. We're unarmed for the most part and vulnerable without the other numbers, or Wyhon to protect us. They are separated and armed, so they can't be seen as a threat in most cases to a large group and can escape easier. Or, at least, I think so. We're in the open with packs, horses, fire and three un-Gifted people. We're sitting nestlings."

Jak groaned, tossing down dry sticks in the middle of the rock circle. "She's right, and I can't believe I'm saying that, but she's right. Sereous is right. It is the bottom rung of the ladder."

Teirra sighed. It was no use now. Their minds were made up and there was no changing that fact, even if the meanest Stormwing came swooping down and the only way to be rid of it was to change their mind. They were just being a new meal for the Stormwing in that case.

Teirra just went about unsaddling the other horses and rubbing them down. She didn't hear the rest of the complaints that other two were making, she was busy in her own thoughts and her own thoughts often forced out the voices of those around her.

In the pit of her stomach, she had a desperate want for something. She wanted revenge for her mother's death and she could think of nothing else, despite what she knew she should be thinking. Her father had taught her never to dwell on revenge, it was dishonorable, but surely, it didn't apply to this situation. This situation was personal and much, much different than the run-of-the-mill revenge rage. He would over look it.

Saka, Commander Opion's tall gelding, nipped at her sleeve, drawing her out of her thoughts and into the reality of the world. The horse stomped nervously and laid back his ears in aggression. Teirra watched him for a moment, reaching out with her magic and asking what was wrong, what she got back was a feeling of fear and predators approaching, not really words, but definite feelings. Teirra looked over her shoulder at Sereous and Jak, who were in a full swing argument by now, arms waving about.

Teirra bent to retie laces on her boot and picked up a rock and tossed it back at Sereous and Jak to gain their attention. Gaining it, she stood and walked by them in a route to her pack and crossbow, her preferred weapon of choice. As she passed them she whispered, "Horses are spooked, may be watchers in the woods."

Jak smiled and waved a hand playfully at her, though he knew the seriousness of what she said. He was clever enough not to react so alarmingly and question her sources. She had taught Jak to respect her communications with the horses her first week with the group when she told his mount to nip at him in a game that promised apples afterward. It was amusing at the time.

Sereous was more awkward as acting casual, she always was, despite Opion's tutoring. She got far too nervous too quickly sometimes. She slowly walked over to her pack at the edge of the clearing and furthest away, struggling in nervousness to get her sword out and her sharpening tools. She meant sharpen her sword, a normal activity for one in the Rider groups, but it looked rather clumsy.

The horses registered what was happening before any of the others could. Sereous cried out horribly as an arrow pierced her chest. She clawed at the shaft as she collapsed on the ground, crying in agony. Teirra bit her tongue to keep the bile back as she fought to see where the arrow came from.

"There!" Jak shouted and pointed to the trees before the now silent Sereous, who was either no longer conscious or dead. It didn't matter if they were quiet anymore.

Teirra aimed and shot. A man fell from the trees and landed just outside their clearing with a horrible thump that made Teirra scramble to turn around to avoid the sight. She dove to find another arrow in her back and reload it into the crossbow.

_Run, hide, get out of here. I'll call you back when it is all over. Run!_ Teirra called to the horses through her magic. She needed to get them out of the fight. The group couldn't afford to lose a horse and the arrows were flying around. _Go, Cloudsong_! Teirra had to urge Sereous' horse one last time before he left with the others.

By now, three had come from the trees to their right and two more had come from their left. Teirra bet that at least four more were scattered around their perimeter to keep the others at bay. She felt a surge of fear and panic rip through her veins. Was this how her mother and the other women felt as they were cornered back home? Or were they even given a chance to be afraid?

Teirra let loose another arrow, which buried itself into the chest of one attacker. She couldn't even tell if it was an organized bandit group or just random thieves out for them, she was too busy trying to reload her crossbow and keep her vision clear.

Jak had taken down at least one more attacker before the circle began to close and the attackers moved in to charge at them. Teirra threw down her crossbow, knowing that if she survived, she would mentally kick herself for so careless a cast-aside. She bent to pick up her sword and stood just in time to fend off an attacker, who charged in early.

Behind her, where Jak stood and fought, she heard cries, several, which only meant that the other Riders had heard what was happening and rushed to help them. Teirra couldn't focus on that, though she was thankful. She had to focus on the two who were determined to send her to her grave.

She shoved off the first attacker to gain more ground only to defend herself from the other and swing away to stop another blow. Teirra wasn't strong enough for two fighters and not men twice her size. This was a task for someone like the Lioness or Lady Knight Keladry, not herself.

Teirra cried out as she realized that her second attacker was swinging at her faster than she could fend off her first to meet the other's blow. This was it, she thought, this is my end. But, Teirra was lucky and it wasn't her end. The first attacker's clothes, littered with fallen twigs and dried leaves, set ablaze, sparkling momentarily in the pale green color of Wyhon's Gift. Teirra would have to remember to thank the man for that.

For now, Teirra focused on beating this one man before her. His sword was good and well made, this close up, she could tell and he knew how to use it. Sick of playing by the rules and sticking to only fighting honorably with a sword, Teirra kicked her foot into the man's stomach driving him back. He looked familiar at that distance, like she had seen him before at the palace when she visited Taex.

The man glanced around himself and at the two men still left of his small group and with the other Riders clearly in view. He called for a retreat and backed himself slowly away from Teirra, bending low. When she moved to follow, he tossed dirt into her eyes and Teirra could only guess from the sounds that he had gotten away. Teirra cursed under her breathe for her carelessness and blinked away the dirt from her eyes.

Turning back, the group of Riders were already moving the seven dead attackers into a pile to be burned. Jak was bent over Sereous, who was dead, saying prayers. Teirra had to look away and find a bush to vomit in before she returned to the group. She had never seen someone loose their life.

She whipped her mouth on her sleeve as she walked back and kept her eyes on either the ground or the eyes of her fellow Riders. Iris, one of the older Riders in their group and the most battle worn next to Opion, found her first and patted her on her back.

"It's alright, horse-girl." Iris used Teirra's usual nickname among her friends. "There's no getting used to the aftermath of a skirmish. It's our job to deal with bandits like these."

Teirra nodded silently and tossed her black curls with a hand. "Sereous is dead, isn't she? We weren't prepared enough."

Iris stopped her and looked at her in the eyes, dark brown eyes matching Teirra's grey eyes. "Now stop that. Whenever someone gets hurt or killed you always say you weren't prepared enough, well let me tell you one thing, horse-girl, you will never be prepared enough for any situation. Sereous died honorably, that's what matters to you, honor, isn't it? You did all you could do by alerting them to the attackers. You can't be responsible for every action of every person all the time, or you'd go mad. Trust me, I know you, you'd drive yourself half crazy. Stop blaming yourself."

Teirra watched Iris's face for a moment and all its seriousness. She wanted to blame herself, it was easier than accepting the fact that Sereous had made the fatal mistake of going for her pack at the edge of the clearing. Teirra finally nodded when she realized that Iris wasn't going to let her go before she acknowledged her small lecture. "She died honorably, yes."

"Good, now, go call in those horses you sent away so we can set out for a new camp." Iris forced a small smile. "You had to tell them to run? Couldn't you have just said to hide and walk away?"

Teirra blushed a deep red and would have replied to a light comment about how running was so much more appealing, but with Sereous' death, she thought it was inappropriate. "I'm sorry, I'll try not to do that next time."

Iris laughed a little. "It's fine, horse-girl, just go and bring them back. If you can find a way to tell Cloudsong what happened, that would be great. I'm not sure Jak or Opion telling him would really get the point across. They don't exactly have a way with horses."

"I'm not sure if I can do that, but I'll try." Teirra shrugged a little.

"The Wildmage effects animals just by being around them, making them more human-like, I would expect that same things happens around anyone with a strong dose of wild magic, like yourself. I'm sure he'll understand." Iris patted her shoulder, just like Domitran had done a few days earlier, much the same way.

"I don't think that applies to me, but I'll try none-the-less. My brother always says to try, I cannot dishonor him now." Teirra replied, still doubtful in herself. Iris shook her head and squeezed her shoulder in a matter that the big knight might have. Teirra couldn't help it; she had to know. "Iris, are you-"

The older woman stopped and looked at Teirra. "Am I what, horse-girl? Spit it out, you know I hate unfinished thoughts."

Teirra thought twice about what she was going to ask. She shook her head. It didn't really matter much. "Never-mind."

"No," Iris stopped and squared off to her, hands on hips. "Spit it out. I'm not leaving until you finish."

"Are you Sir Domitran's mother?" Teirra blushed red for even thinking it and saying it out loud. What if she were wrong?

Iris laughed. "That's what you were trying to get out?" Teirra blushed deeper. "No, I'm not Sir Dommy's mother, I'm his aunt. So you've run into the big lad? Hmm, must have been the shoulder thing." Iris walked away mumbling to herself, leaving a red Teirra behind.

Teirra walked to the edge of the clearing, near where she'd encountered that familiar man. She set about trying to call each of the horses back, which was much harder than telling them to flee. She had to reassure each horse that the danger was past and how to find their way back. By the time she'd finally contacted Prancer, the last of the horses, she was exhausted and ready for a night's sleep. She wasn't looking forward to riding in the saddle tonight while they searched for a new camp.

She didn't even notice Wyhon, a handsome and a little rugged man of his thirties come up beside her and steady her as she swayed. "Next time," he told her, "don't aim for such a forceful command. Try remembering to tell them to stick close by. You aren't trained enough to reach so far. You aren't trained at all. Now someone will have to tie you to your saddle to keep from falling off like you did the last time."

Teirra blushed at the memory. Three weeks ago, she had to find the horses when she'd sent them off in an attack similar to the one that night. They had gone so far, that'd she had passed out after finding only half the group. She was lucky that Prancer was becoming smart enough and more comfortable with the other horses to bring them back. That afternoon, she'd tumbled to the ground after falling asleep in the saddle. Prancer was so worked up that it had taken them three hours to calm him down enough to move on. It wasn't a shining spot on her record.

"Come, horse-girl, let's get you cleaned up and rested a bit before we move on." Wyhon helped her back to her pack and sat her down. He wouldn't let her move until she had been fed and checked for any wounds.

Teirra remembered mounting Prancer, but she didn't remember the ride. Wyhon must have tied her to her saddle, like he said he would so she could sleep. All Teirra knew was that she didn't fall from her saddle.

_

* * *

Author's note on the chapter: This is a chapter that I'm not sure I like, nor despise. I want to establish the relationship Teirra has with the other members of her Rider group, but I don't want it to drag down the story I have in mind. I also wanted to establish that Teirra is extremely gifted in horse magic and that she has a history was clumsy mishaps. This was mostly just and introductionary chapter for characters with a little action to enhance things._

_Note two from the revisions_: I've done a little expanding and clarifying in a few spots, though this isn't one of the chapters that will need the most "fixing."

_**Chapter Three:**_

_Sadness isn't something to be ashamed of._

_If it is held back, it can destroy the heart._

_It is honorable to be sad despite your father's words._

_Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter in a letter after her grandfather died._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three: The storm rolls in...**_

_Sadness isn't something to be ashamed of.__  
If it is held back, it can destroy the heart.__  
It is honorable to be sad despite your father's words.__  
Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter in a letter after her grandfather died._

* * *

Three days after the bandit attack, the eighteenth group of the Queen's Riders, Group Nobility, stopped outside the stone walls of Teirra's castle home in Ninequor. Commander Opion, a broad shoulder and imposing man with hands littered in scars, signaled for Teirra. She maneuvered Prancer to his side instantly, her closed face open to any request her commander may give.

"I am sending you and Penolope to speak with Lord Dickens. We will need every bit of information he has gathered as well as permission to search his, and your, lands." Opion told her in a manner that suggested that they would treat this bandit investigation no differently than the others. Teirra would have taken offense were the source of the words not from Opion, a man of business. Opion waved up Penolope, "Go with Teirra to speak with the Lord of this place."

"Of course," Penolope was several years older than Teirra and the fiercest woman ever knew. She was a short, petite person with the blondest hair Teirra had ever seen and the sharpest dark eyes. Her skin was tanned from the days in the sun and a thin scar ran down her left cheek from a skirmish Teirra had only heard tales about.

"Sir, is it wise to send me? Afterall-" Teirra began.

Opion held up a hand to stop her. "Of course it is wise. I am not blind to the fact that you have lost your mother _and_ you need to speak with your father. Penolope can ask the hard questions I know you can't or won't ask. This is a job now, I need you to see it that way."

Teirra nodded. It was going to be painful having to question her own father about her own mother's death. She had never had to do that before. It had always been another family, another fief, another place, never her own. "I will, Commander. I will honor your request."

Opion let out a breathe. "Yes, honor it, do whatever, just get the job done, Teirra."

"She will," Penolope patted Teirra's arm slightly. "She's a good girl, Opion and you've trained her well. She'll let her feelings aside for the moment, won't you? Now that's a girl."

Teirra followed the older woman through the gates that were so familiar to her. A few guards her faintly remembered her, waved down at their young mistress; she was, after all, the new mistress of Ninequor solely. She bit her lip to keep tears back at that thought. She didn't need them now.

They stopped when the hostler, Jacob, approached them. Teirra smiled at the elderly man dearly. He was always the first to greet visitors, per her father's request. The two men had been friends since boyhood and who was Teirra to argue with that?

Penolope swung out of the saddle and handed the reigns of her horse to Jacob first and waited for Teirra to do the same. Teirra hesitated before handing them to Jacob. "Prancer's a feisty one. Just promise him an apple once you've put him in his stall and he'll behave. Won't you?" She looked pointedly at the horse who shook his head. She waited until she could assure that the gelding would behave before following Penolope and the servant that was escorting them into the castle home.

They were led to the sitting room that her father favored with its many trophy swords and rich furnishings in green's and gold's. It had always been her favorite when Teirra lived here. The servant stood by the door as they waited for Lord Dickens to arrive and speak with them. Neither woman felt comfortable enough to sit on the furnishings, having just come from a long ride and covered with dust, sweat and the usual grim of the roads and forests.

Lord Dickens strode in, clad in a white shirt and tan leather breeches. He looked like he had just come from the fields. His usually well kept dark brown hair had grown to the point where he'd tied it back in a horsetail and his grey eyes and nose were clearly a mirror image of the daughter standing before him. He was a beast of a man, but a man with a usually happy nature with laugh lines around his eyes. Today, he looked tired and worn. "Sit, please, don't worry about the furniture. Derek, get this women some water, I'm sure they'll be thankful for it."

"Thank you, my lord." Penolope replied for the both of them. It was just as well. Teirra felt like she would cry if she spoke. Silently, she told herself not to; it wasn't the time.

Penolope took a ginger seat on the edge of a cushion of the couch as Teirra plopped herself into her favorite chair: a leather backed chair her mother used to read to her in. It was odd to sit so comfortably. The Riders in Group Nobility all came from wealthy, noble families, hence their name, but it had been so long since they were amongst nobility that wasn't fighting that they often felt awkward around them, as this situation was presenting itself.

Penolope leaned forward to take a sip of the water Derek had just poured for them. Lord Dickens eyed his daughter silently as she bit her lip and then stifled a sneeze.

Lord Dickens arched a brow. "Would you like your usual tea, my dear? I know this room is quite dusty."

"I'm fine, really. The room isn't dusty." Teirra shook her head and insisted. Her father sounded so much smaller and older than her last image of him.

"You're here to question me about the attack, aren't you? And here I was hoping that this was just a friendly visit." Lord Dickens looked down at the cup he'd taken up in his hands. It was a lot stronger than the tea or water he offered the women.

"We need to know everything you know about the attack. This isn't an isolated incident, or else we wouldn't be here. Only your daughter would be here." Penelope told the Lord of Ninequor.

Lord Dickens nodded silently and sipped his drink. Teirra watched him worriedly. Her father hardly ever drank and never in public or never in the eyes of a visitor. He had once told her that it was dishonorable to drink and become drunk. Teirra had a feeling he'd been drunk more than once lately.

"What is there to know? A group of foul, dishonorable men came and killed the women in the field, took their crop, money, anything of value, including several work horses and disappeared." Lord Dickens said disagreeably.

"Please, father, don't be that way. We need all the details you can provide. We're doing our job." Teirra told her father, eyes filled with sympathy.

"Your mother was killed. Do you really want to hear the details?" Her father looked at her darkly.

"She must. She will be a Rider and this is her job, my lord. She wants to do her job." Penolope said gently. The woman slowly set her glass, nearly finished, onto the low table between them.

Lord Dickens eyes flickered between Penolope and Teirra. Teirra avoided her father's eyes. She couldn't deal with the look he would have in them. The big lord leaned back into his chair and sighed deeply. "I only know what I've been told. The men cleaned up the field before I could go out to it. Best thing, I believe, for me."

Teirra shuddered and sipped her glass of water, which until now, she hadn't touched. She told herself to become steel for whatever may come next.

"It was still early, Lady Tamaida and I hadn't had our usual mid-day meal, when I heard of the attack. The men-at-arms said they rushed as soon as they could. They managed to take down three of the men who attacked. I tried to help, but Francis, you remember Francis, don't you Teirra?" When Teirra nodded, he continued, "But Francis stopped me. He didn't want to sacrifice both Lord and Lady, I know that, but it was my wife. The women were dead before they got there, I've been told. We followed the tracks and found them a little ways off. They are well trained and organized, like a small company. We haven't been able to find them since. They're vicious men. I'm not sure they're bandits at all."

"That's for us to find out, my lord." Penolope replied calmly.

"Father, we need permission to search the lands," Teirra told him, still staring into her glass.

"Do it. Those women, my wife, fought for our well fare, our crops and animals. Those bandits have no honor dishonoring women as they did." Lord Dickens swallowed the rest of his drink.

Teirra bit her lip to keep the anger and pain from spilling out. "Penolope?"

"Yes?" The older woman looked at her.

"May I be excused to... To survey... The, ah-" Teirra mumbled horribly.

"Yes, go," Penolope waved her off. "In all your surveying, try to look in the woods, speak to horses, do what you do."

Teirra nodded and left as quickly as she could. She had heard worse stories about attacks, but it was just hard to hear it about her own mother. Teirra ran from the castle, pushing past guards, men-at-arms and even her own Rider group. She ran through the gate that led to the fields. Teirra ran until she thought her lungs would burst. Finally she stopped, surprised to find that she was at the far field where the attack had taken place. From the way it looked, she suspected that no one had touched it since it happened.

The field was flattened by horse hooves and booted, men's feet. The crop was gone and the usually horse drawn cart was overturned and charred slightly by fire. A few other charred marks littered the ground in spots that made Teirra suspect a mage's work. There was even spots of dried blood that made Teirra look away and choke back bile. It was then that Teirra finally started to cry.

Her mother had just been bringing in some early crops. She was just helping her people. She deserved a better fate; all the women who died there did.

"Teirra, are you crying?" Jak had come up behind her quietly.

"No, not at all." Teirra quickly wiped her eyes on her sleeves and forced a smile on her face.

"It's just you never cry. I cry, but I've never seen you." Jak told her.

"I didn't see you cry for Sereous." Teirra pointed out gently.

"Yes, well, that was different." Jak shrugged and started over to the overturned cart.

"How?" Teirra asked, following Jak to the cart, careful to look only at that.

"We were planning that in a few years we would marry and leave the Riders. We would have to. It was just a dream. It was easier to cry on my own." He told her, looking at bits of the cart.

"It's sweet. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance. It is honorable to cry openly, sometimes." Teirra told him, keeping well away from the cart.

"You should take your own advice, horse-girl, you and your father." Jak bent to look at the ground. "Do you ever plan to marry, oh Girl-Who-Speaks-to-Horses?"

Teirra shrugged, having not really thought about it. "Maybe. But I like the Riders too much right now to ever think about it. I wanted to be a knight, you know. I'm not going to throw away my chance to be as close as a knight as can be on love or marriage."

"Your parents should have just bitten their lips and sent you both to be knights." Jak shook his head with a smile. "The Crown lost a good knight in you, with all your honor and what-not."

"Perhaps," Teirra sighed, clearing her head a little.

"Look here," Jak motioned to her. "A dropped knife. It could have been one of the ladies, but it looks too well used. Have a look." He handed the knife up to her.

Teirra frowned and gingerly took the knife, careful to only touch the hilt. She turned it over. "It isn't one of my mother's. Her and her maids had a Gallan maker's mark from when she lived there. We'd have to ask the families of the dead to see if it is consistant with their other wares."

Jak nodded. "I'll see to it. It will give me something to do. You should probably get back to Penolope before Opion and Iris know you ran out and swat you one." He left her silently, smiling.

Teirra sighed and took the longest way back she still remembered, walking instead of running. Her father would scold her cowardice at running from the meeting and Penolope would give her an extra drill for it later. She was not eager to return, especially since it would mean preparing for her mother's funeral. She took a deep breathe to calm the fresh wave of sadness. She would be brave and honor her family.

_Author's Note: _Alright, so I have written yet another chapter. I hope it fits well. This one was a little harder because I was at a lost as to where to go with this. Teirra is becoming increasingly hard to write, and she's my own creation... goodness.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter Four: The glass isn't always clear..._**

_Mourn for those who passed, but do not linger on it.__  
They are far happier and wouldn't wish you to ever be sad.__  
Honor them by being happy and everything that you can be.__  
Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when her favorite hunting dog passed away._

* * *

Teirra couldn't afford to die her clothing black in mourning. It wasn't money that held her back from doing it; her father had died all his clothing black, even his silks and velvets. It was her well being. She needed her clothing to blend with her surrounding and black would just stand out far too much. Besides, she couldn't afford to be constantly reminded how much her mother's death hurt. She was forced, however by the maids, to wear a black overcoat at the funeral.

It was an unhappily beautiful day with hardly a cloud in sight. The sun bore down in its usual late summer heat; its last before the fall breezes rolled in. There was hardly a breeze to cool them and Teirra found that she didn't care; she was much too numb.

Her mother had requested to be burned in the middle of the lake on Ninequor's northern most territory. It was her favorite spot to disappear to. So, the family, household, men-at-arms, and Riders stood on one shore of the lake with several of the best archers, Teirra included, ready with arrows lit in fire.

Her mother had looked beautiful in her best dress of emerald green silk, the one Teirra often envied, and tiny white flowers in her ebony hair. She looked like a queen; a pale, ghostly queen.

The Captain of the house guards raised his hand, signally the archers. Then he turned to Teirra, who would fire the first shot. "When you're ready, my lady."

She would never be ready for this moment, she reflected. This was her mother. This would make her death real and final. She wasn't coming back. Teirra took a deep breathe and let it out shakily.

A hand gently rested on her shoulder and glanced back at Opion. "She'll always be with you."

She looked at him, then his hand as it slipped off her shoulder. She refocused and let the arrow fly, watching only to make sure it would hit its target before looking away.

Teirra let the bow fall uselessly from her fingers to thud on the packed ground beneath them. She turned on her heel and started to stalk off. She had had enough of this sight for a life-time.

As she walked by her father, he caught her arm. "It is honorable to want revenge," he whispered to her, "but it is not honorable to go and get it. Do your job and honor your job, but do it, don't extend it to revenge."

"I'll do what I must, father. I'm sorry." She told him.

Lord Dickens shook his head. "We should have made you a knight, then at least you'd be stuck in Corus with your brother and his Ordeal coming up."

"But, I'm a Rider now and I can do something about her death," Teirra told him urgently.

"Then come back to me alive, dear girl. You and Taex are all I have left of your mother." He told her in return.

Teirra stared at him a moment, then at the hand on her arm. She couldn't promise her safety, not in her line of work. She saw how easily death had come in Sereous. She couldn't lie to her father.

"Promise me," he shook her arm.

"You know I can't. Father, please. I don't want to die anymore than you want me to." Teirra pleaded with her eyes to let her go. Finally he released her and looked to the ground. Teirra watched him worriedly for a moment. "Taex sends his love." Then she left the funeral.

She didn't know where she was going until she got there and Jacob, who had come to tend all the horses, nodded to her in greeting. She went to Prancer instantly, digging into her pocket for a carrot and offering it to him. "What am I to do, Prancer? She's dead and I should have been here to help her. I'll have to leave the Riders and tend to the household now." Tears formed in her eyes. "My dream will slip through my fingers and all I'll have is Taex's stories to live through. I'll have to marry some old noble-man whose far to stuffy for me and have his children. Mother's attackers will escape and..."

Prancer shoved her with his muzzle as if to say, _Stop feeling sorry for yourself._

"Oh, you don't know what it's like." Teirra insisted. "Nothing is turning out how it should."

Prancer tossed his head and looked away. _Life never does, lass._

"It should." Teirra whipped the tears out of her eyes. "Look at me, a mess. If my father saw this, he'd say it was dishonorable. I have to at least remember my family."

Prancer nipped at her sleeve. _And me._

Teirra couldn't help but smile. "And you. I just wish I had a lead to go on. Something to help." She sighed and tired of standing still on her feet, plopped herself down on the grass, legs crossed, as Prancer's feet. She closed her eyes to think. Unfortunately, the only thing that kept coming to mind was that familiar face from the skirmish several days earlier. Teirra shook her head to clear the image, but it kept coming back. "Stupid face." She muttered.

Prancer's head came down as he nibbled the grass. _Maybe he's not stupid._

Teirra opened her eyes and looked at her horse. She sat in silence for a long time, just thinking. Slowly, she remembered that she had brought parchment and pen with her; she had intended to write a letter to her mother, but she never did. Gathering herself up and standing, she moved to where her saddle and small pack had been left by Jacob and rummaged through it.

Prancer's head went up slightly at all the noise she made. _Stop that racket. What are you looking for?_

Teirra ignored him for the time being and smiled when she found just what she was looking for. Without word, she sat back down and began to sketch out the face that was imprinted in her mind. She thought that if she showed her father, he would recognize the face and tell her who he was, then she could go to the men that may have seen the bandits and see if they could place the face. It was a long shot, but it was all she had.

She was nearly done when Group Nobility drifted up towards the horses to help saddle them for the ride back to the castle. She looked up to see Iris's inquisitive stare and shrugged. Teirra would tell them later, if it all worked out.

Jumping to her feet, and startling Prancer so bad that she had to convince him it was nothing, she ran down to meet her father coming up. "Father!"

Lord Dickens stopped and looked at his daughter with curiosity. "What's all this?"

"Here," she thrust the parchment at him. "This face is familiar. It was a man I fought a few days ago when the group was attacked. I was thinking we could ask some of the men about him and see if he was familiar. After all, the knife we found has already been suspected to be one of the bandits, so that's a nice sign."

Lord Dickens studied the face intently, rubbing his chin all the while, a face Teirra knew well from when her father walled himself into his study. She waited patiently but eagerly. "He's a noble," he began slowly, "but I haven't seen him in years. He disappeared and it was rumoured that he had died. Hmm, a few extra scars and longer hair and facial hair that wasn't there before. He used to be a pretty good knight in his time, but he wasn't the most honorable person I knew. Some suspected that he had affairs with other noble-men's wives, daughters, sisters, aunts, cousins... It looks like him, I just don't believe it to be him."

"Who?" Teirra asked, losing a bit of her patience.

"Sir Grufford, born of Maren. You saw him with the attack on your group?" Lord Dickens handed over the image.

"Yes," she nodded, "I saw it with my own eyes. I fought him until he escaped."

"Rumour was that he was siding with the Scanran's in the war." Lord Dickens frowned deeply. "If that is the man you saw, I need you to write me if anything seems traitorous about him. I will forward your findings to the court and hopefully the Crown, though they are rather busy trying to help out with those who lost everything in the war."

Teirra nodded. "I will."

"Give that sketch to Francis when we get back. He'll go about and ask the men if they saw a man like that. With any luck, they will." Lord Dickens instructed her.

Teirra nodded once again and bowed. "Of course." Then she turned and started back towards Prancer and the other horses. She smiled to herself. At least her father was beginning to act like his old self again. Maybe she should include him a little in their tracking of this bandit group, just to make him feel involved. He'd like that, she thought.

When she got to Prancer, he was already saddled, how anyone had accomplished that, she didn't know, but she was thankful. Teirra pitied the man who had, though. She swung up and patted the gelding's neck.

Prancer looked back at her. _In a better mood?_

Teirra smiled a little at him. "Yes, a little."

_Did that, whatever you call it, help?_ Prancer continued to stare at her.

"It did, or at least I hope it will. My father recognizes the man, that is a good sign." Teirra replied easily.

Penolope looked back over her shoulder that Teirra and raised an eyebrow. "Chatting with your horse again? Does he even talk back?"

Teirra's mood dimmed a little at the teasing. "Yes, he does. He's good company, unlike some people, some times."

Penolope snorted and turned forward once more in her saddle at the procession started to move.

"Some people would say that such a noise is unbecoming in a lady." Teirra remarked with a smirk.

"And some would find you crazy." Penolope replied without looking back.

"It isn't crazy, it's useful and the Wildmage isn't crazy. People appreciate all she does." Teirra pretended to pout.

"Don't do that," it was Iris that replied. "It's unbecoming." The woman stayed serious for a moment before a smile broke out on her face. Penolope rolled her eyes.

Teirra smiled, one that lit into her eyes. The day was a horrible one, but it was one with a step closer to finding her mother's killers and giving them exactly what they dished out. She didn't think they would appreciate that so much. Let honor dig a well, she was going to give her mother the justice she deserved.

_

* * *

Author's note: Alright, so this was a much harder chapter to make interesting. After all, it is hard to decide where to go from here. I was hesitant to make an dialogue with Teirra and her horse, but she does possess wild magic with horses and I really wanted some sort of interaction. I hope it works with the chapter though. Who knows?_


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter Five: The Road isn't always straight..._**

_There are a great many paths in this world to take.  
__Some are straight, others: rocky and some have so many twists, your head spins.  
__It is the unexpected path that is the most rewarding._

_Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when her brother went to train as a knight instead ofher._

* * *

The next few days that Group Nobility spent at Ninequor were used to search the nearby vicinity for anymore clues to the attacks made upon Teirra's mother and her maids. Teirra's sketch had proved only mildly useful in simply identifying the bandits that had killed Sereous which left Teirra feeling restless. She had thought she'd been on to something.

The Rider Group soon discovered that the bandits, already days ahead, had split into several factions to which their group didn't have enough people or resources to attempt to follow at the moment. Teirra had been angry when she learned such, but her honor, always firmly wrapped around her mouth, kept anything from leaking.

What was worse was that they had been recalled back to Corus. The group would have two days of rest before going with a small group of the King's Own and a few knights to a more Eastern Scanran border territory with more "serious" threats. Teirra had been furious with that fact until her father and her commander reminded her of her duty and honor to serve the crown faithfully.

Teirra resolved herself to silence on the ride back to Corus, not to sulk as the others had imagined, but to compose herself and reflect. Teirra would never sulk, it wasn't in her character. But she couldn't let her mother's death mean nothing and disappear into the night like some bat. Teirra's honor would not let that happen. Her mother's killers would die by her sword or at least their leader would die by her sword and Teirra still firmly believed that this Sir Grufford was somehow involved.

Teirra had been assured that a smaller, less experienced group was going to follow the bandits. They would carry more resources and supplies than Group Nobility. That hadn't sat well with Teirra either. She wanted to be there herself.

Once at Corus, Teirra left the group, making sure Prancer was behaving, a few sharp words did that, and walked off on her own, much like she always did. Her intention was to find her brother, perhaps he had a solution. She ignored the part of her that told her Taex could no more help her than a fly, especially when the Ordeal was only a few months away.

When she couldn't immediately find him, her frustration built until she reminded herself that patience was honorable and her frustration was not. Teirra couldn't believe how irritable she was becoming and forced herself to take a deep breathe and let it out slowly.

"Lady Teirra! I didn't expect to see you back so soon." Sir Alyxander, Taex's knight-master turned her around with her voice.

Teirra bowed respectfully to the knight, who returned the greeting. "We were recalled for a more pressing matter." The words were practically forced from her mouth.

"That must be frustrating," Alyx admitted to her in a matter that suggested one of those mind-doctors. "I may not be run by honor as your family, so frustration must be something you try to dismiss, am I correct?"

"Yes, frustration is not always honorable," Teirra replied politely. Her irritation began to built and she quickly sought to press it down. _It must be that time of the lovely month again_, she reasoned to herself quickly. _That can be the only explanation for my irritation at such simple things_. _It has to be, or I'm going crazy_.

Alyx simply nodded, then added, "Taex isn't here, if you're looking for him. I sent him with his friends. He needs the distraction for the time being."

Teirra fought the urge to grumble. "I agree. He has much to think about with his Ordeal so close, only a few months away." Teirra clasped her hands behind her back, much like her father did when he tried to regain his patience with her. Silently, she wished Taex had been there so she could talk to him. It was a selfish thought, she knew that, but one she didn't dismiss.

"Lady Teirra," Alyx touched her arm gently. "Might I suggest the archery fields? Anger and frustration must go somewhere. It was the first thing I learned to teach your brother, else he might have destroyed something already."

Teirra looked at him and sighed inwardly. _Revenge must wait_, she told herself. Perhaps waiting would put honor back into her head and dispel revenge. It was a slight hope anyway. "It wouldn't hurt. Thank you for the suggestion."

"Lady Teirra, many mourned your mother's loss. It is understandable to hurt." Alyx told her.

Teirra took a deep breathe to hold back a wave of sudden tears. "Understandable, but unwanted."

"It always is, my lady. Take care. I will send a few knights your direction for practice." The knight-master patted her arm lightly.

"Thank you, sir." Teirra was apprehensive about company. She couldn't turn down the Knight's invitation honorably, so she had no choice but to accept the fact that others would join her.

Teirra walked back to her things and grabbed her bow and a few practice arrows to take with her to the fields for target practice. Maybe she'd just pretend the target was Grufford. She was sure that she would hit the target then.

She found an empty field, most of the trainees gone to eat their lunch, and took her stance. She stared down the sight for the target and froze, with the string back. What was she doing? What evil thought had crossed her mind that she could kill a man she didn't know with such a cold heart? Teirra blinked a few times, before shaking her head. He killed her mother, she was sure of it.

"Lady Teirra!"

Teirra, startled out of her trance, watched as the arrow flew and landed wide of the target. She let out a breathe and turned to see who had unsettled her aim. Before her stood the three knights she'd met a few weeks back: Alan, Domitran, and Mattieu. Domitran was the one who'd startled her, which somehow didn't surprise her since his aunt was known to do that to her as well. She gave them a weak smile.

"How are you doing?" Alan asked once they had gotten closer.

"As well as can be expected, sir." Teirra replied quietly, instantly shy.

"Well that's good." Domitran smiled brightly and clapped her lightly on the back.

"Good Sir Alyxander sent us over here, mentioning that you needed a shooting partner, or two, or three," Mattieu smirked.

"Sir Alyxander is good to my family," Teirra replied, still quiet. Her irritation and frustration nearly gone to the wind and replaced with all the flutterings of nervousness that she always encountered around those she placed higher than herself.

"I'd say so," Domitran laughed, making Teirra blush.

"Come now, Dommy, don't embarrass her." Mattieu scolded his friend lightly and with a smile.

Teirra blushed a deeper red and bent to retrieve another arrow to shoot. She aimed, taking her time while the knights went back and forth in the usual manner that men did. She supposed that it was nice to have that dull, little roar behind her. It stopped her from thinking of killing a man she didn't know. Teirra released the arrow and watched as it hit just outside the red dot in the center.

"So, Lady Teirra, your aim has grown better." Alan remarked as he came to stand beside her and fire his own arrow, of course hitting dead center of the dot.

"Your aim hasn't changed." Mattieu smirked. "Show-off."

Alan shot him a glance. "I never show-off. It's bad manners."

Mattieu rolled his eyes at his friend. "You're sounding like Thom."

"No, Thom is far too interested in his studies anymore." Alan replied and set himself for another shot while Teirra listened to them.

"Are you coming with your group to Slate Coast with us, Lady Teirra?" Domitran asked as he leaned against a wooden post set to mark where the archers were to stand.

"My group is going." Teirra replied, concentrating on her aim. Alan reached over and lifted her bow up ever so slightly. "I am a part of my group. I don't see the cause, or I haven't been told the cause, but yes, I am going."

"Good." Alan remarked. "Hold it steady. Try resting her hand against your cheek, yes, like that."

"Alan and I will be going." Domitran told her. "I even heard that the King's Champion might be going as well."

"She's itching for something to do, so I wouldn't doubt it." Alan sighed.

"You don't know?" Teirra looked at the knight who was son to the famous Champion.

"Concentrate." Alan pointed at the target. "And no. My mother is a... Free spirit. I love her dearly; she is my mother, but I hope she doesn't decide to come."

Teirra released the arrow, watching as it hit a couple finger-widths away from Alan's center arrow. "It would be an honor for her to accompany us." She turned to look at the knights.

The knights smiled back at her. "An honor, but for her own son, it only means more scrutiny." Mattieu informed her. "I'm sure you felt that way at your own fief."

Teirra nodded slowly, seeing their point. She had felt watched back home when Group Nobility had been there. Her father was ever watchful of what she did and how she did it. She could only imagine what it could mean for someone born to a famous legend.

"It will be her or the Lady Knight, I'm sure of it. The small attacks at Slate Coast have grown in frequency. I heard rumours of the Crown worrying about the Scanran's rising again." Domitran told them quietly.

"You know better than to gossip, Dommy." Alan scolded and his face turned serious. "It is just a few scattered troops that don't know the war has been over and for some time."

Teirra watched them. She hoped what Alan had said was right. She didn't want to be caught up in the war once again when she needed to get out and find her mother's killer. Slate Coast was too far from her home and there was no hope of finding leads in Slate Coast. Deep down, Teirra hoped that the King's Champion would go with them and it wasn't just so she could be around the famous legend. It would end this problem quicker so Teirra could be back for Taex's Ordeal and then home bound to find Grufford.

Teirra bit her lip and picked up another arrow, taking her time to aim once again. Now, Mattieu and Domitran joined Alan and Teirra. Teirra hardly registered their presence, she was too busy trying to work out getting back home or to Grufford, whichever came first.

_

* * *

Author's note: Goodness, writing Teirra has become a challenge, especially since I strive not to make her a Mary-sue. And I can't even begin to find where this story is going or how it will end. I've tried to end it in my head, but I don't like those endings... Maybe I should reread my own writing: __It is the unexpected path that is the most rewarding._ Goodness, writing Teirra has become a challenge, especially since I strive not to make her a Mary-sue. And I can't even begin to find where this story is going or how it will end. I've tried to end it in my head, but I don't like those endings... Maybe I should reread my own writing: 


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six: Rocky steps always lead to trouble...**_

_Honor, as I have told you, is a great thing to have._

_It guides you to the right decisions._

_But, sometimes it is necessary to make decisions for the heart and not for honor._

_Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her husband, while her daughter eavesdropped._

It had taken a week to reach Slate Coast properly and a half a day more for them to reach the grand estate that made Teirra's home look like a small storage building in comparison. They camped outside the castle's slate, stone walls, which had no doubt given its name to the place. The knights, King's Own and King's Champion camped in a small clearing on the west side while the Rider's found a more secluded spot in the trees on the opposite side.

Things were being set up and plans drawn by those in charge, including Commander Opion, while Jak and Teirra got the lowest wrung of the ladder: to buy more supplies inside the walls. She wasn't thrilled about such a tedious job, but it gave her a duty besides setting up camp. The last time had not gone very well to say the least.

Teirra stood leaning against the doorframe of a seller's store as Jak bought supplies. At least the days were cooling as summer began to fade. She hated to work in absolute heat. In any matter, Teirra got to people watch. She liked to people watch as it reminded her that people did exist in this world besides those they fought against.

Then she caught sight of a face, one so eerily familiar, her grey eyes widened in sheer surprise. It took Teirra's mind as moment to place the face, but once she did, she was away from the door in an instant.

"Grufford?" Teirra couldn't keep her mouth shut.

As if the man heard her, the face snapped her direction and then began to move through the crowds, away from her. Teirra frowned and followed the man. Could she really be this close to the man she was searching for?

When the man picked up his pace to a run, Teirra ran as well. The crowds slowed them down a bit and Teirra was more careful about knocking into the people. Perhaps because she had a heart.

The man turned down the road with a more narrow lane and less people to block them. Teirra was getting closer and was nearly within an arm's reach when Grufford turned with a short sword drawn. Teirra pulled up short and would have gone too close if not for the arm that wrapped around her waist to pull her back.

"What are you thinking?" Jak released her and looked at the man. "I apologize, sir."

The man still stared at Teirra in caution. "No harm."

"This is who I've been looking for. This is Grufford." She whispered into Jak's ear.

"You're making a fool of yourself." Jak replied, making no effort to remain as quiet as she.

Teirra's face flushed red. It did look foolish, but this had to be Grufford. She was sure of it. "It's Grufford."

"No, this is Master Hale. The seller told me when you ran off. Goodness, you're fast." Jak frowned at her. "Come, let's leave the man alone." He grabbed her arm and started to lead her away.

Teirra looked back over her shoulder at this 'Master Hale.' The man narrowed his eyes at her and Teirra returned the look with equal if not more vigor. Grufford was only a few paces from her reach and she could do nothing about it.

"Teirra, your honor." Jak grumbled.

Teirra sighed, a frustrated sigh. "But my honor dictates that bad men get justice brought upon them. That is Grufford. If anything, he killed Sereous."

"I'm your friend, Teirra, so please hear me out. That man is Master Hale, the Count of Slate Coast's hostler. He's not a bandit. He may look like your sketch, but he's known here." Jak finally let her go once they were far enough away.

"It is a gut feeling, Jak. Believe me, I know who he is." She told him firmly.

"We have other things to concentrate one, like whatever plan out great leaders create and dish out to us, little people." Jak reminded her.

"I know, but I need to deal with this." Teirra replied weakly. She knew what Jak was saying was right, she just didn't want to hear it right now.

"Another time. We're going to need your abilities with the horses. Help me." Jak bent to lift a pail of supplies.

The moon was nearly at its peak when Teirra snuck away from the camp and slipped into the gates. She did note that the leader's tent was still lit as she hid in the dark. It worried her slightly, but she was focused on what she was going to do. She wouldn't let that distract her now.

She headed towards the stables, getting lost in a few wrong turns before she found it. She guessed that the hostler would stay in quarters nearby or within the stables, afterall, it was quite large. As she entered, some of the horses snapped awake, spooked by an unknown presence.

_It's alright. Go back to sleep, you'll need it._ She told them gently in the best way she could.

Teirra's boots echoed on the wooden floor boards and she cringed. The sound sounded like horns in her ears, announcing her arrival. She had wanted silence tonight.

At the end of the hall, Teirra found a flicker of light form a candle and headed that direction. Slowly, she pushed open the door. Sitting with his back to her was Grufford, scribbling a letter. Teirra crept up behind him, a knife drawn. She could end it now.

"This isn't very honorable, Lady Teirra." The man muttered, not stopping in his letter. Somehow, it didn't surprise Teirra that he knew her name.

"It wasn't honorable to kill women as you did." Teirra growled, unladylike.

"I'm not driven by honor." Grufford turned around to face her and smiled. "You know, in this light you are rather beautiful. Much more so than your friend in the woods."

_Sereous_. Teirra narrowed her eyes. "You don't deserve to live."

"Then kill me," he smirked at her, mischief in his eyes. "Kill me in cold blood. Do it, my lovely lady. No one would blame you. You could get away with it, with all your honor."

Teirra paused and looked at him. She probably could get away with it. But she couldn't hide it from those whom she cared about and they would look poorly on her. It was cold blood to do it this way.

"Second thoughts?" Grufford taunted her.

Teirra frowned, then looked at the knife. Revenge wasn't honorable, but if one was to take it, this was not the way. She sighed painfully as Grufford laughed at her. Tears threatened the fall in sheer frustration. Why couldn't she do what she wanted to do? It would never get any easier than this.

As a few tears snaked their way down her cheeks, footsteps echoed behind her and Teirra quickly hid her knife in her belt. At least someone was making the decision for her.

"What's going on here?" A female voice sounded from behind her. "I came here to check out supplies for horses and I overhear a conversation I'm not sure I like."

Teirra turned around to find a stout woman with the most firey red hair and unnerving violet eyes. Teirra felt like a giant standing before this woman, in height alone. Everything else felt like a tiny girl.

Teirra quickly knelt as Grufford stood to bow. "T'was nothing, my lady. I'm sorry we have disturbed you."

The Lioness looked from Teirra to Grufford a few times, gauging the situation. "It better be nothing." Then she beckoned Teirra roughly. "Come, we're going back to camp."

Teirra sheepishly followed the living legend out of the hostler's quarters and down the aisle and past the horses. The horses once again spooked had to be calmed by Teirra's words silently.

Once they would outside and headed back toward the gates, the Lioness looked at Teirra out of the corner of her eyes. "I don't know what that man did to you, but that wasn't how to handle whatever you were going to handle."

Teirra couldn't bring herself to look at the woman. It was enough just to walk along side her. "T'was nothing, my lady. It was a poor gut feeling, that was all. It won't happen again."

"I understand gut feelings, more than you know, but what would have happened if I hadn't come along?" The Lioness looked squarely at her now.

"I don't know," Teirra admitted. "My honor would have won out. It always does."

"Good, because I've heard things about you." The Lioness focused ahead again. "Your commander seems confident that if we should need it, you can speak with the enemies horses."

Teirra, startled, looked at her. "At... At a certain range... I have to be...uh.. close enough."

The Lioness smiled slightly. "Good. Whenever there is an engagement, I need you to drop what you are doing and get as close as possible and unhorse those men. Understand?" Teirra nodded. "Good, now, get some rest. Morning always comes far too early for my taste and I've already been up late."

Teirra nodded and bowed once more before running off to find the Rider's camp once more. Her feeling were mixed as she went to bed. She was delighted upon words that Opion had recommended her and that the Lioness was putting faith in her, but what she had been about to do echoed horribly in her memory. She had been about to become a murderer and that terrorified her. She made a vow never to let that happen again. Teirra would obey her orders and if the opportunity provided itself in the battle field and Grufford showed his true colors, she would take her revenge then.

She woke Prancer slightly and told him about the night as efficiently as she could and bid him goodnight. Tomorrow, she suspected, would bring more excitement than she could handle.

If only she knew...

_Author's note:_ Sigh So I need to pick up the pace and actually force myself to decide the direction of this story. I'm also worried about how I wrote the Lioness, it probably needs major work. I know I'll probably be coming back to rewrite it sometime...I just hope I haven't ruined anyone's day by it...


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven: On knees and begging...**_

_You'll be surprised with yourself, at what you can do.__  
That's the beauty of life.__  
Have faith in your own strength, doubt will take you no where.__  
Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter in a letter her first week with the Riders as a trainee._

* * *

It was barely past Midday and Teirra was busy helping Penolope instruct a few women of Slate Coast in basic hand-to-hand combat skills. Teirra always was happy to help with the task. She felt it was important that women knew how to defend themselves. Besides, at that moment, it was taking her mind away from what she had been prepared to do last night.

Teirra whipped the sweat from her brow with the back of a dirty hand, smearing dirt across her head, but it made no difference. The new smug simply blended in with the old smudge. She filled her lungs with air as Penolope explained what she had just done. It was always that way: Penolope explained while Teirra demonstrated. It was the way of life, she supposed.

"Lady Teirra!" A boy ran up to her, waving his arms and sweating from head to toe. "Commander Opion requests your presence immediately."

Teirra frowned, confused about such suddenness. "Immediately? I have to finish up here. Tell him I will hurry."

"He said that if you delayed, it would have your head should he have to come down and drag you away." The boy replied, still struggling from breathe.

Teirra nodded quickly. Opion didn't often give such threats without very good reason. She looked to Penolope who nodded her off in a dismissal. "When the Commander orders it, Teirra, you answer."

She took off at a run, by-passing her messenger friend without much trouble. Her long legs and strides carried her quickly to their camp where Opion was trying to saddle Pracer with all the trouble someone would have trying to saddle a bull. Teirra swiftly took the saddle from the man. "Behave," she ordered the horse and saddled him, then she looked to her commanding officer. "What is it?"

"You're going to the front." Opion replied quickly, mounting Saka, his own horse without a second thought. "The Lioness is requesting it and I'm not about to refuse her, though I hardly know why."

Teirra's blood began to rush. "The front? There's a battle going on? How can the city not know?"

"It's a ways off, now hurry up. Men are dying." Opion held onto Prancer's reigns as Teirra mounted up onto him.

They were away at once, even before she could settle herself into her saddle. It was a quick ride, the battlefield not far off from the city gates and slate walls. It was a veiled attack, made in the trees as any bandit would fight, but it wasn't a bandit skirmish. This fight had enough people to call it a full scale engagement. It was a hard fight to win on horses and on a field littered with large trees. Teirra knew it was serious before fully reaching it.

She hadn't forgotten what the Lioness had instructed her to do, either. The task at hand was going to drain her thoroughly, but she knew she had to obey. Teirra drew in a deep breathe and released it, closing her eyes. It would be hard to find the horses that were allied with the opposing side, but not impossible. She would simply had to find the horses that were unhappy with their riders and abused.

"What are you doing, horse-girl?" Wyhon rode up beside them, relieving Opion of his watch over her.

"I'm trying to concentrate. Please don't let me be killed while I sit here." She pleaded with Wyhon without opening her eyes. She didn't see the man nod, but she knew he did, nor did she see what he was doing.

Teirra forced herself to sit as still as possible and go to that place that allowed her to visit the thoughts of her horse-friends. She nearly cried out with the bombardment of it all. She had never attempted anything of this scale and without asking the horses for permission. She felt like an intruder.

_Please,_ she cried out with all her strength, _I don't mean to interrupt, but-_ She stopped, nearly losing her connection on the account that her head throbbed so much. _I need to ask a favor, please! Those of her who are not of the King's Own, the Riders, or the Lioness, listen to me!_ A hundred rejections hit her in an instant. They could no more bow to the request of some girl when they could perish along with their riders. It was an honorable request, but one she had to refuse. _Only a moment please! __They men you are carrying, they are bad men! They helped kill me mother and possibly dozens of others, please!_

_But why should they care? _A hundred thoughts conveyed.

_Because if they can kill my mother, they won't hesitate to kill you._ Teirra replied, trying to keep the calm in her mind.

_They'll kill us for helping you._ One voice was stronger than the rest. He answered her quickly and forcefully if Teirra could say the least.

_I know it is a risk_, she conceded guiltily.

_Then why ask it?_ It was the same strong voice.

_Because I need your help. You could make the difference in the tides of this fight. Please, I don't like begging, but I will._ Teirra told them.

_Make a difference?_ A few answered.

Teirra smiled slightly. One they that crossed between animals and humans was that of pride. _Yes!_

_What does this 'help' entail?_ The strongest asked.

_Toss them and run! I will make sure you are cared for if you run towards the stone walls. Please!_ Teirra conveyed what she could as clearly as possible. Horses didn't think in the way humans did and to Teirra, they were twice as stubborn.

Her head pounded with all the force of a winter blizzard back home and more. She wasn't even aware the tears running streaks down her cheeks at the pain. All she knew was searing, unwavering pain in her head. How could she have known all those thoughts would hurt? It had to be some bad joke.

_Please!_ It was a weak and feeble attempt to beg for their help before she broke the connection.

She forced her eyes open, then snapped them shut when the light of the day burned a hole through her head, or so it felt. She opened them slowly and looked about her. The battle seemed to be dying down. How long had she been out of it anyway? Men were drifting back towards the gates of the slate walls.

Teirra slid herself out of her saddle and nearly fell to the ground and would have if Wyhon had not grabbed her arm and held her upright. She felt so weak and tired, but she told herself to keep awake. She wanted to go down and check for any wounded horses and pray for the dead ones. She felt a responsibility for them.

She started forward, but Wyhon's grip stopped her with a lurch. "I don't think it is best."

"I have to go and check them." Teirra told him sleepily.

"It will only hurt." He watched her carefully.

"I have to." Teirra repeated, trying to force more strength into her reply, but failing.

"Then I'm coming with you. No use in you passing out in the field that way." He wrapped an arm around her to hold her up and draped her own arm around him.

Teirra didn't have the strength to refuse his help.

Slowly, he led her through the trees, steering her away from as many of the dead and dying as he could. They had to stop twice for Teirra to empty her stomach. Wyhon remained silent and un-judging, which was a relief to Teirra.

Teirra stopped at the body of one dead horse, one she recognized as Cloudsong, whom had been passed on to Jak as a spare mount. Teirra's eyes filled with tears. First the rider, now the horse. She collapsed next to the body and stroked the mane with loving hands. "You were a good friend." The pain was so raw when she thought that she might have been the blame. Was it wrong of her to ask for their help? It took so much of their own concentration away from the fight.

"Alright," Wyhon hoisted her up. "Enough, we go back and no complaints from you, horse-girl."

"But there are more I have yet to see and-" She began.

"You won't see them. I won't have you blaming yourself for whatever it is you did. How is it that Iris always scolds you - Ah! They died with honor, fighting for their cause like any soldier. They were brave souls." Wyhon dragged her back to Prancer and his mount, Amos. He settled her onto Prancer's back with surprising ease and mounted his own horse. "And don't you go worrying about Jak, he's fine." He took Prancer's reigns, not trusting Teirra to lead him back and started forward.

It took moments before they were met up with Commander Opion, Iris, the Lioness and Sirs Alan and Domitran. Alan rode close to his mother and Domitran was close to his aunt, leaving Opion to greet them with a smile.

"Well, whatever you did, you did it well." He clapped Teirra on the back, who winced ever so slightly.

"Goodness, Opion, you have to kill the girl even further?" Iris smirked and scolded their commander, giving a wink to Teirra all the while.

"It was well, no doubt," the Lioness smiled. "It will be a story for Daine to hear. Perhaps we could even get it from the girl's own mouth." Teirra blushed and smiled weakly, tilting dangerously in the saddle. Alanna reached out a hand in instinct to balance Teirra. "After some rest, after we all rest and get out of this heavy and itchy mail."

"I heartily agree, Lioness," Domitran commented and shifted in his saddle in a mock effort to reach an itch. It made the sleepy Teirra smile.

"I have to help Penolope," Teirra told them slowly.

"I don't think so. You're off to bed for a good nap and a good supper." Alan came up beside her and straightened her on her saddle as she tilted dangerously.

* * *

Teirra woke sometime during the night as far as she could tell. She lay on a cot wearing only her breeches and shirt. She couldn't even remember where she was, really. What she did remember of a searing pain in her head as she sat up. Teirra groaned quietly.

"You're finally up." A male voice made her turn. A tall figure stood in the doorway of the room she slept in, flanked by another figure just as tall.

"Taex?" Teirra couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across her face. "How long have I been out?"

"A few days," he came to sit beside her, then held a finger to his lips. "Others need their rest." He indicated to the other injured laying on cots, fast asleep.

"A few days?" She whispered. "It took us nearly a week or more, how did you get -"

"A single horseman can ride faster than a company. It doesn't matter does it? I had to come and check on my baby sister. You are, afterall, the Lady of Ninequor." Taex bent and lifted a small cup of tea to her lips. "Drink."

Teirra didn't fight the order and willingly sipped the tea she loved so dearly. It was then that she looked up to see the other figure standing nearby. She shot a curious look at her brother.

Taex smiled. "Count Samual of Slate Coast, meet Lady Teirra of Ninequor. She is your horse-girl." He winked at her.

Teirra bowed her head and well as she could manage. "An honor, m'lord."

"I always check the wounded." Samual replied. He had a gentle face with smiling brown eyes and long blonde hair pulled back in a horsetail. He was well kept, but dressed casually with a dyed shirt of red and well made breeches. The Count wore a decorated sword at his hip and rested a large hand upon it. "Come, Taex. We must let the wounded rest. We expect you at breakfast tomorrow."

"We?" She looked at Taex in confusion.

"Just come, Teirra." Taex sighed, waiting for her to ask questions in her usual fashion. Her brother put up with her questions better than anyone she knew.

She nodded and watched as they left. She settled herself so that she could sit comfortable and sip her tea. It made her happy beyond words to see her brother here and looking so much better than she had heard. He would be alright, she decided.

Once she finished with her tea, she set the cup beside her cot and settled in to sleep until dawn. Teirra wasn't going to waste another day sleeping away. Besides, she had an aching feeling that Grufford had been up to no good as she slept.

_

* * *

Author's note: AH! I have no idea how this came about, but I do like it. It is bringing me in the direction that I want to go. But I am finding that I will have to dig up Wild Magic and reread it before I go too much further. I need to refresh._

Leave a comment, I love comments, even if it is just a good, bad, or a horribly criticizing remark.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight: Truths shall be revealed...**_

_Always trust in your instincts.__  
They will keep you alive and well.__  
Trust in others instincts, as well, for they can be an asset for your side.__  
-Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her children in a game of hide-and-seek._

* * *

After breakfast her first day back on her feet, Teirra found herself escorted by Wyhon to the stables. She had a feeling about what it was to be about, but she didn't let on. Better to prolong the explanations as long as she could. It was a survival technique her brother and herself had developed and taken a liking to when they were younger.

Wyhon took her along-side the stables and to a hastily built pen for at least two dozen horses and ponies. Alan, Grufford, Taex and the Lioness, along with several other stable hands, awaited them along the fence. At her arrival, several of the horses came for a closer look, including a large, coal black stallion she suspected was their herd-master.

"What exactly did you tell them?" Alanna asked her with a smirk, her arms crossed over her chest.

_You said we'd be cared for,_ the stallion tossed his head at her, impatient for her attention.

They all wanted an explanation first. "I'm trying, please be patient," she told the horse aloud, then she blushed at the curious looks she received.

"Well?" Taex prompted, reminding her that the adults were waiting for her.

"Uh, it required a bribe." Teirra replied quietly and weakly. She didn't know how else to describe it.

"What kind of bribe?" Grufford crossed his arms sternly.

Teirra narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention to the others. She owed him no explanation. "I promised they'd be well cared for if they helped us."

"Two dozen? Where are the rest?" Alan asked her, for a moment looking very much like his mother beside him, complete with the smirk and amused eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe they ran off." Teirra admitted. She looked to the stallion for an answer. _Do you know?_ The stallion simply tossed his head.

"Several nearby villages have reported the same number of horses there." Alanna supplied. "We can account for most of them."

"I'm sorry." Teirra apologized to them. She hadn't meant to cause a problem.

Wyhon smiled and patted her shoulder gently. "At least she didn't just tell them to run. Then we'd have to find them. She has a habit of doing that."

Teirra blushed deeply. Did he have to bring that up? They would probably decide they wouldn't need her help any further. She couldn't blame them, either. She would decide not to use her help in she were in their position.

"They're good horses. We'll find a place for them; a good place." Alan told her, reaching into his pocket for a lump of sugar and passing it back to the mare that had come up behind him and nudged him.

"It does make life easier." Alanna remarked. "They're unhorsed, but until they officially surrender, we have to assume they are simply regrouping. This is unlike any bandit group I've experienced." The Lioness led them away from the fence and toward the gate.

"It's unlike any I've heard of, and Teirra tells me a lot when we meet." Taex remarked. "You don't think they're-"

"I don't know." Alanna replied when Taex didn't finish, but they all knew what he was thinking, what they were all thinking.

"You would think they had enough." Teirra muttered, not meaning to be heard.

"You would think." Alan muttered in return as he came to walk beside her.

Once outside the gate, Alanna and Wyhon left them to contact the king in Corus and update him. Teirra didn't envy them. The news they'd give him would not be all good. She couldn't imagine he'd be happy about it. Taex waved them good-bye as he headed back inside, probably to talk with the count of Slate Coast.

"Get your bow and some arrows." Alan instructed her. "I'll meet you by the Own's camp. We mustn't get rusty." He left her, heading toward where his mother had gone.

Teirra sighed and headed toward her camp for her bow. She highly doubted that they were ever get rusty, but he had to humor him. Perhaps she'd invite Taex to join them. He would like to see how far she had come and she would like to see him shoot. The siblings had never seen one another use their skills before.

Teirra was in high spirits when she reached the camp and relieved Jak of his duty to watch the camp. He thanked her warmly and headed toward the stream for a cleaning, promising to return quickly. She welcomed the empty space compared to the busy walled city. She was a country girl at heart.

She patted Prancer as she walked by, greeting him warmly. He nuzzled her shoulder in concern and she dug into her pocket and offered him a carrot, then headed for her pack.

She didn't hear him come up behind her, but she did heard the sound of a knife being unsheathed. She whirled around to face her attacker. She couldn't get a good enough glance as she was spun back around and then knife held to her throat. Teirra found herself wishing she were a bit bigger and quite a big stronger.

"You're getting in the way, my lady. Taking horses, tsk, tsk. That isn't a very honorable thing to do. Stealing, isn't that against your honor?" Grufford muttered into her ear.

Teirra grabbed at his arm, trying to pull it away. She kicked her foot back, but Grufford anticipated the move. She kicked again, but missed. All she had to do was keep pulling at his arm to keep that knife away. She had to fight. She wasn't going to be taken like her mother had been, never!

_Prancer_! She called out, desperate. _Saka, get help!_

The horses pulled at their ties. Breaking free, Prancer plowed into the back of Grufford with all the force of a raging bull. They flew forward, Teirra falling out of the man's reach and taking a moment to regain her breathe after hitting the hard ground. Ahead of her, Saka pulled free of his reigns and raced to find his owner.

Teirra scrambled just as Grufford did so, reaching for the knife that had been tossed aside. She was on her hands and knees when Grufford reached out and grasped it. She jumped back, climbing to her feet, trying to gain ground. She had to stay out of reach of the blade.

Prancer, behind Grufford, clasped his mouth on the man's hand. Grufford cried out and nearly dropped his weapon as he pulled free, but it had given Teirra enough time to grab her own knife from the nearest pack, probably Iris's. It didn't matter.

"Teirra!" Jak came running from the stream, dripping wet and trying to pull on his shirt.

Grufford lounged for Teirra as she looked at Jak and she nearly missed the blade, jumping back and tumbling over the pack she'd taken the knife from. On her back and with her attacker so close, Teirra felt the panic rise in her chest. She held out the knife in her hand in a mock defense.

Prancer spun around and kicked his hind legs out at Grufford. Teirra heard a horrible crack as hoof connected with Grufford's right leg. The man went down, nearly falling on top of Teirra, who rolled out of the way.

Teirra scrambled out of the way as Jak brought a sword to the man's throat. "Drop the knife, Master Hale."

Teirra collected herself and stood just as Opion came bounding through on Saka. He looked less than thrilled and a man more dangerous than Teirra had ever seen. He slid off Saka's back and strode over to them. "Are you alright?"

Teirra nodded grimly, catching her breathe. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Opion replied sternly and looked at the man under Jak's sword. "Teirra, go and get Wyhon and a few of the Own. Jak, get some rope and tie this man up, then splint his leg." The burly man drew his sword and replaced Jak's as the younger Rider went about as he was told.

Teirra turned to Prancer and pulled herself onto his back. "Where would I find him?"

"The Lioness's tent. Go!" Opion ordered.

Teirra nodded and turned Prancer around and rode off to the other camp. It didn't take her long on Prancer's swift feet and was sliding from his back before he even stopped. She rushed to the tent and uttered a silent apology if she were to interrupt anything, and threw open the flap.

Alanna and Wyhon sat with their backs to her, muttering into the blade of Alanna's sword, when they turned around. Registering her alarm, they stood, Alanna muttering something quickly at the sword.

"Uh," she fought to catch her breathe for a moment. "I was told I could find Wyhon here. There's a man back at camp who attacked me. We need help getting him into custody. Prancer broke his leg."

Wyhon rushed past her, making for his mount, when Teirra stopped him. "Take Prancer. You'll get there faster."

Wyhon eyed the horse warily, but Prancer only knelt, with a slight hesitation and let Wyhon climb onto his back and take off. Teirra thanked the gelding profusely.

Alanna rode up beside Teirra and offered a hand down to her from her tall mount. Gingerly, Teirra took it and swung up behind the legend. "You know who this is, don't you?"

"Instincts, my lady." Teirra replied, looking down as much as she could. Alanna didn't reply, but simply pushed on faster.

They arrived shortly after Wyhon had reached the camp. Alanna slipped down and headed toward the prisoner with a fierce face that made Teirra cringe. She didn't want to face that fury. Instead of following the Lioness, she walked over to Prancer, taking his nose into her hands and offering him encouragement.

_Thank you, my friend. I owe you several apples and my life._ She smiled at him gratefully.

_The apples for your friend. He's a stiff rider._ Prancer shook his head out of her touch, clearly not happy with her.

"Teirra," Opion called to her with a wave of his hand.

Teirra obeyed without a word. She knew what came next: the interrogation. She'd done it many times with her own friends in the group after an attack. It was standard in their group, part of which made their group so effective. She couldn't begrudge it.

Teirra told them what happened, sparing no detail of what she knew of Grufford and what he'd done. Her only detail left unsaid remained the night she had snuck into the stables to kill him. When she was done, she looked to the Lioness, hoping she wouldn't mention that night either. It wasn't a shining mark on her record.

"Alright, let's get him back to camp." Alanna ordered, watching carefully as they dragged the man up to his feet.

"I'll stay with the camp." Teirra announced. They had all the information she could give, anyway.

They eyed her cautiously. "Are you sure?" Alanna asked slowly.

"Yes. I have the horses to watch me." Teirra replied, forcing confidence into her voice.

"I'm sending someone over, nonetheless." The lady knight remarked. "Let's go."

Teirra watched as they left the camp and she was alone once more. Grufford's open attack bothered her deeply. He seemed like such a cautious man, a man to be watched. This seemed far to rash an act for the man she'd heard about.

She started a fire and began heating up some stew over it as the night seemed to fall upon them so soon. It reminded her that fall was coming quick and soon the winter. She shivered. How she hated to be cold.

A crack of a twig made her tense and reach for her sword sitting beside her. She had learned her lesson earlier that day: never go unarmed. Slowly she stood. "Who goes there?"

"Easy, my lady. Tis us, your gentle knights." Domitran greeted dramatically and came to stand in the light of the fire.

Alan joined them and Teirra was reminded that she had promised to practice her archery earlier. She blushed a rosy pink at the thought. "I'm sorry I didn't practice with you."

"It is understandable." The blonde knight smiled as they sat down.

"We've come to keep you company." The big knight took up the spoon in the kettle over the fire. "Smells good, maybe it will be edible. Alan is a horrible cook. It makes me long for Aunt Iris's cooking."

Teirra wrinkled her nose. "That bad?" Iris was a horrible cook. Teirra had actually gotten ill over the last meal the Rider had cooked for them.

"Yes, well, I can at least bring the food in." Alan teased his friend.

"That was one time." Domitran stopped stirring. "And after a long days walk. I have an excuse, mighty one."

Teirra laughed and went to find two more bowls for her friends. She stopped short when she got to the edge of the camp's small clearing, resting a hand on the rump of Jak's mount, Stomper. She heard voices a-ways off from the camp, muffled by the sound of the forest, but nonetheless there. How could she not have heard it before tonight?

_You were sleeping in that big stone house,_ Stomper replied, nudging her.

Teirra nodded and hurried back, forgetting the bowls. The two knights looked up at her, laughing over some joke she hadn't heard. "There's someone out there."

"Where?" Alan's features turned serious.

"Over toward the horses, in the brush. They're a way off, but..." She trailed off, the knight's had a mischievous look in their eyes, much like Taex when he was about to do something none too wise.

"Let's take a look. It's probably just some villagers camping out from a hunt. Grab your bow, Lady Teirra." Domitran was already on his feet, followed closely by Alan.

Teirra was hesitant, especially after today. Alan came and rested a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright. We're trained and if it goes ill, we have you to call for help." He smiled at her.

Teirra sighed. She had a horrible feeling about this in the pit of her stomach.

_

* * *

Author's note: Oh, the ball is in motion now. I only hope I can keep it rolling and then be able to stop it when the time comes. The only thing now is to figure out an ending, now that I can see the path the story will take. Anyone reading this and want to leave suggestions, I will be grateful. It may just spark a new idea or some such._

Thanks so much to those who read. It really makes my day.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine: Strength enough...**_

_You have to be aware of your curiosity and it's bounds.__  
Don't just go after them without thinking first.__  
That, my child, is where you always run into trouble.__  
-Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter on her sixth birthday._

* * *

Teirra followed the two knights through the undergrowth and tall trees of the forest around Slate Coast. With the sun nearly set, it was becoming increasingly difficult to see where to set her feet. Riders train for tracking at night as well as day, but Teirra had never been as good as some of her classmates. Her home was farmland, she could sneak through crops even in the darkest night, but here she had to struggle to remain quiet.

The voices grew louder as they neared the campsite and they could make out a large fire near the center of the bedrolls. Alan grabbed their sleeves and signaled for them to split up and scout more ground. Teirra didn't like it.

Domitran nodded and headed to the right while Teirra headed to the left, stringing her bow as she went, still hoping it was simply a hunting party. Watching it more and more, she began to doubt that.

As she crept closer the voices and conversation became clearer. The sentries on the edge of the camp huddled in small groups, talking or smoking as they pleased, hardly aware of what they were meant to do. The main group sat around the fire as it crackled, staring into the dirt around it, several men holding sticks and drawing in the dirt.

"What if we assaulted the castle itself. That wall there."

"The Lioness has troops there."

"This wall, only a few there, a Rider group."

"Outright attack would be foolish without a full force. We have to gain victories without looking like we're gaining victories. The Tortallans are cautious and filled with all sorts of mages."

"They'll overlook Slate Coast."

"Not with the Lioness here. She is the King's Champion."

Teirra looked to Alan across the camp. His green eyes blazed back at her. This was definitely not a hunting party. They had just stumbled across the conspirators themselves, planning for the next attack. It wasn't their full force, only a dozen or so. Teirra suspected that it was only their main leading party.

_Prancer,_ she shouted as loud as she could for her friend. _Find the Lioness. Get help. The need to see this, and it's important._

Alan motioned for them to regroup, eyes still blazing. Teirra shifted slowly backward, watching the came, then froze at the snap of a large twig. She glanced at her foot to see if she had been the cause and let out a breathe when it hadn't been her. Her gaze fell on Alan who shook his head slightly. Alan and Teirra's eyes flew in the direction of Domitran.

Domitran winced and did his best to hide, as well as a knight his size could. The sentries and those by the fire snapped into attention at the sound, several grabbing nearby weapons. Teirra looked to Alan, who was after all her superior in this situation. She didn't know what to do.

"Search the woods!"

Teirra crept back to Alan as quickly as possible, using the cover of the conspirator's sounds to move faster. "What now?" She whispered.

Domitran came up beside them. "Sorry, I stumbled." He muttered by way of excuse.

"Alright, split up and head back to the Rider's camp. If you get caught shout. Teirra, send for help." Alan whispered quickly to them, looking at each of them in the eye.

"Already done, sir, a while back." Teirra told him as she would Opion.

"Good. Let's go." Alan headed off in one direction.

Teirra nodded, patting Domitran's arm gently in reassurance. He hadn't meant to spoil their whereabouts. Then she was off, heading in one direction, swiftly but quietly. She only hoped she was going in the right direction. She'd hate to wind up miles away and have to explain herself, especially after today. She would only prove how troublesome she'd been the last few days. Teirra would never be a Rider at this rate.

Teirra glanced behind her, to check where the men of the conspirator's camp were and stumbled over a large root in the process. She fell, hard twisting her ankle in a streak of bad luck, it would seem. In the darkness, she winced and pulled herself up. She was a fool, a clumsy fool. She should have stopped them and herself from going into the woods.

The clash of metal on metal brought her back to her senses and to the place her mind went that helped her get through a fight. She searched for the source and started limping in the direction the sound was coming. At least it grew louder and she was bringing herself closer to her friend, whichever one it may be.

Teirra grabbed an arrow and strung it to her bow, keeping it loose and low and prepared. She saw darker shadows ahead of her and a flare of light just big enough to see by. As she got closer, she found an advantage point behind a good sized tree and pulled the arrow back. She identified one of the attackers and released, aiming as carefully as she could. Teirra winced as the man fell, hitting a fellow comrade on his way.

"There's more!"

Teirra growled. She had hoped that the other attackers wouldn't have noticed their fallen friend had fell by way of arrow. They'd find her soon now that they were aware that there were more than one.

The light flared brighter, allowing more visibility. Alan, the source of the light, caught her eyes slightly before the swinging blade of his sword flew past his face. She let out a silent prayer that he would be alright and that help was soon on the way.

_Prancer, please!_ She cried out, even as she was fitting another arrow to her bow. She was just about to release when an arrow struck the tree beside her head. Startled, she whirled around.

The darkness made it hard to make out tree from foe, leaving Teirra to guess where her foe might be. Terror seeped into her veins, and every muscle wanted her to run to safety, but Teirra knew she couldn't do that. Her honor would never allow her to do such a thing and her honor had kept her alive so far. She had to trust in that.

Another arrow whizzed past her head to hit another tree, making her duck slightly in reaction. Following where the arrow had come, she aimed and released. She heard the thud as the arrow sunk into the bark of a tree and nearly cursed aloud. She reached for another arrow to find that she only had a few left. Teirra had left most of her quiver back at camp, not thinking she would need them. That was foolish, she scolded.

"Teirra!" It was Domitran's voice that rang in the night. It was in the opposite direction of Alan and herself which only frustrated her. She wouldn't be able to get to him and still help Alan.

Teirra glanced back to where she saw Alan fighting in the light. He was holding his own, as she would expect the son of the Lioness to do. Perhaps she could leave him, just for a moment to find Domitran.

Alan saw her look back to him and read her face. "Go to him! Teirra, watch out!"

Teirra swung around as a man came running to her. In a panic, she let her arrow fly, at point blank range into the man's chest. Teirra jumped back, her stomach threatening to empty itself then and there.

"Find him, Teirra!" Alan shouted to her over the sound of his sword clashing against the sword of a foe. "They'll find me better than him!"

Teirra nodded, forgetting that her friend couldn't see her do so, then she was off, fighting her way through the woods toward Domitran's voice. She bit her lip against the frustration and pain in her ankle. It was slowing her down and she didn't need that right now.

"Domitran!" She shouted, hoping to get a response.

She stumbled into a relative opening in the trees with Domitran whirling to face her, sword swinging. Teirra cried out and stumbled back, out of range. She could just make out Domitran's tired smile. "Are you alright?"

Domitran nodded. "They were no match for a big fellow like me." He grabbed her arm slightly and started away. "We've got to get back to Alan."

Teirra heard the sound which came too fast for her to utter a warning before Domitran gasped.

"Domitran!" She screamed as saw an arrow shaft thrust into the big knight's shoulder.

The force brought the knight down to his knees and Teirra's arrow to her bow. Trusting her instinct, she let it fly and heard the slight gasp as it hit the man. She couldn't tell where, nor did she care. Her only concern was for the knight knelt in front of her. It wasn't the picture she had fantasized about as a little girl.

"Let's go." She reached down and helped her friend to his feet. She wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him upright and led him back the way she'd come, forgetting for the moment about her swollen ankle.

They walked for a few minutes, Domitran dragging by the second, when Teirra thought they should be hearing sounds of Alan's fight. She looked around, hoping to see that flare of light to guide them by, but saw only darkness. Panic was beginning to fill her chest, making it hard to breathe. She would never forgive herself if she had abandoned him to his grave, nor would his mother, she suspected.

"Alan!" She screamed, much like she had for Domitran moments earlier. "Alan, please answer!"

A sword came at her, forcing her to shove Domitran aside and dive away to avoid the cut that surly would have sliced her from her shoulder to her hips. Their attacker seemed less interested in her at the moment and more interested in a quick kill. He moved to stand over the sluggish Domitran who was too weak from blood loss to do much else but cower away.

Teirra dropped her bow and pulled out her sword. Before she could even think, she thrust it into the man's back and kicked him off the blade. The action made her sick, but she couldn't let her friend die because of her weak constitution against blood.

She heard another man come from behind her and turned to meet him. Their swords were crossed and Teirra wincing in pain at the strength of the blow when she looked into the green eyes of a friend. "Alan!"

The blonde knight smiled and stepped back. Light flared, then died down to a respective level. He sported a large gash on his right arm and an even larger one on his leg. In the light, his face looked pale and drawn. He noticed Domitran in an instant and knelt by his friend's side.

"You called for help?" Alan asked her softly.

"Yes. They should have been here. Domitran, he need's help. Where are they? Prancer didn't-" Teirra mumbled, for the moment unable to piece together a few coherent thoughts.

"I can help a little with Dommy." Alan replied. "Hold him still while I break the shaft."

Teirra swallowed hard and knelt down and did as she was hold. Domitran moaned slightly as the shaft broke, then seemed to settle down a little. "Mighty fine place our curiosity has let us."

"Don't talk, Dommy. We'll find help. Keep watch, Teirra. I'm going to be a little preoccupied." Alan told her quickly, if not sternly.

"What are you going to do?" Teirra couldn't stop herself from asking.

"My mother taught me healing, just keep watch, please. There won't be any more light, so-" Alan looked at her tiredly.

Teirra nodded quickly and turned away. It hurt to see her friends so worn and weak looking while she remained relatively unscathed. It should have been her that was laying there with an arrow in the shoulder, not Domitran.

As she watched the shadows for anymore signs of attack, she reached out for any horse nearby. If she could just get a mount to help Domitran and Alan back to camp, that would be enough. No horse was in the immediate range she usually used and was forced to concentrate harder to touch the mind of a friend.

_Excuse me, sir_. She interrupted a young stallion sleeping. Teirra shook her head back at camp, to shake off the sweat pouring down her face.

_Yes?_ The young stallion woke up at least agreeably.

_I need help. My friends are hurt and need to get back home before they-_ She drifted off slightly. Instead, she showed him images of her hurt friends as much as she could.

_They're big and I'm sleepy._ The stallion lulled.

_Please, help me!_ For the first time in Teirra's life, she forced some of her will into her command. She would apologize later, but right now, she just needed help without hesitation.

_Fine._ The young horse agreed and raced to reach them.

Teirra's attention snapped back to camp in an instant and she staggered on her feet, mainly from exhaustion at the fight. Movement caught her eye behind her and she turned in time to see Alan collapse over beside his friend.

Teirra went to his side. He looked ghostly pale in the dawning light of the new day and he was damp from head to foot. "Oh, Alan, what did you do?" She un-tucked her shirt and ripped a long strip from it. She wrapped that strip around his bleeding arm and ripped another to wrap around his wounded leg. She used the cuff of her sleeve to dab his face and arranged him in a more comfortable position.

Then she saw to Domitran, whose complexion looked slightly better than it had and he was coming around. His shoulder looked better and the arrow pulled out. It had stopped bleeding for the most part on account of whatever Alan had done. The knight was conscious only for a moment before he went out again. Teirra thought it for the best.

A snort in her ear made her aware of the stallion who she had asked to come. He was tired from the run, but willing to help her before he rested. He nudged her slightly.

"I- I don't know if I can lift them. Can you handle two? A walk, that's all." Teirra looked at the horse with pleading eyes.

He tossed his head arrogantly. _Of course, faster if you like._ Then he knelt down, so she could help the men onto his back.

Alan moaned as he woke slowly. Teirra didn't notice at once, as she was trying to bring the big knight over to the horse. Alan must have notice her struggle. He came over, stumbling, and helped get Domitran onto the stallion's back.

"I'll hold him on." He mumbled dulling and climbed onto the horse's back. The horse slowly brought himself to his feet with a toss of his head.

_They must eat rocks._ He looked back at her.

_Thank you, my friend._ She smiled and walked beside him, reaching up to balance both men and keep them on the horse. It was a patient struggle.

Teirra didn't know how long they had walked. The grey morning was coming up, lighting the woods a little better. All she knew was that every step brought them closer to the camp and closer to Slate Coast. She was a walking ghost by now, hardly awake.

"Teirra!" She looked up to see a man running towards her and realized it was Taex when he neared. With him so close, she gave up the fight to stay awake and collapsed onto the ground. At least someone had found them. Now, she just wanted to sleep, long and hard.

_

* * *

Author's note: Ugh, I'm not very good at writing battle sequences, so please forgive me. Nor am I good at getting my characters out of the mess I create for them. I only hope I can do it here. Now comes the complicated part..._


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten: To keep her honor...**_

_Do what you must, but always remember where you come from.__  
Respect others as you respect yourself, that is a strong virtue.__  
Honor your family, but honor yourself.__  
---Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter on when she left for training._

* * *

Teirra woke in almost an instant. She didn't know what brought her out of her sleep so suddenly, other than the fact that she had become aware that she was asleep. Pushing herself up, Teirra recognized the clearing that had been the Rider's camp. Now it was filled with men, some wounded, other's anxious. Confusion swept her.

"Finally. Don't you ever do what you did again, or I will tell Father and force him to punish you in any way he knows how." Taex shoved a bowl of warm stew in her direction.

"How long this time?" She asked, gratefully accepting her meal. Teirra was starving, after all.

"A day and mid-morning. You missed a lot with your little venture in the woods." Taex sat himself beside her, folding his long legs awkwardly underneath him.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" She sipped at the stew, watching him.

"I tried, once at supper. You swung your arm and nearly hit me." Taex smiled a little in amusement. "Much like Father does when he's tired."

Teirra smiled a little. It felt good to be sitting with her brother and talking to him. She hated how their lives so frequently tore them apart. She missed being a sister to her brother. It was such a basic concept.

She remembered suddenly about poor Domitran and Alan and looked with alarm at her brother. "What of Sir Alan and Sir Domitran? Are they alright? The Lioness will never forgive me. I let them down and allowed them to get hurt. I knew something wasn't right. I should have stopped them or done something more."

"Stop," her brother ordered in all the authority an elder brother had to use. "The healers say Sir Domitran will be quite alright after a few more days of rest. After Sir Alan got a scolding from his mother, and that was a sight to see, the fury of a lioness." He shook his head, then continued. "Well, he'll survive at least. Sir Alan took the full responsibility for your venture. He made sure you, at least, had your honor."

Teirra nodded sadly. "I am sorry." She was more sorry than any words could express. "What happened here?"

Taex looked around, becoming serious, as serious as he had been back in Corus. "I don't like gossip flying about, but you deserve to know I suppose. It was a trap. Somehow they knew you'd go into the woods and somehow they knew you'd call for help. Prancer came running into the camp, crazy-like, interrupting the Lioness and Commander Opion. It was such a sight. He made them follow him into the woods. They took a few men, but where ambushed there. I suspect not far from you and your friends.

"An army moved in between, cutting off the commanders from their army. The Count gathered as many of the villagers into the gates as he could and helped organize a defense. The Own was split, some trapped on one side, others on the opposite. They had us pinned. A few of the Own escaped into the castle and are helping hold it from there. The rest escaped and regrouped here. We were careless, over-confident and stupid." Taex told her quietly.

Teirra frowned as deeply as she could. She knew who was behind all this mess and she hated him for it. Shoving her bowl at her brother, she threw off her blankets and jumped to her feet. Immediately, she began to look for her pack, her weapons and more arrows. She should have killed him that night when she had the chance. Then so many would not be dead, wounded or about to be. Her reputation was little compared to that.

She stalked down a pathway, her brother close behind her, calling for her to stop. She wouldn't listen. Teirra wasn't going to be swayed this time. Along the way, she found Iris and stopped infront of her. "Where are my weapons?"

"Teirra?" Iris turned to her curiously.

"Where!" She nearly shouted. She hated to be so rude, but time was drifting away, precious time. She could have prevented this.

"There, but horse-girl-" Iris began, but Teirra was already headed away and in the direction Iris had pointed out.

Now she had both Taex and Iris following behind her quick pace. She pushed past idle men and to her pack without so much as a glance. Forget her honor, right now. Teirra was fairly certain that if she just killed Grufford, she could end all this mess. She didn't know how he had escaped, but he had, she felt it.

She scrambled through her pack, discarding anything other than her weapons. A few things flew to hit Alan, who had come in concern much like her other companions. Teirra gathered up her sword and sword belt, strapping it to herself and bent to shove a few knives into that belt around her waist. She bent once more to retrieve her quiver and bow, then turned to face Alan. "Where can I get more arrows?"

"Teirra-" Alan began slowly, reaching to grab her shoulders. He was speaking to her like she was some crazed idiot. She did not like it.

"Where!" She demanded once more. Teirra was becoming frustrated and was losing her patience.

"Stop this!" Alan demanded, grabbing her shoulders firmly. She stepped away, trying to break his hold, but he wouldn't let her. "What do you think you are going to do? Go on some revenge trip. I won't let you, nor will your brother, or your commander. I want to end this as much as you, but a single person isn't going to stop it. It wasn't your mistake."

Teirra narrowed her eyes at him. For once in her life, she forgot how much higher in rank the man before her was. "You don't understand," she growled. "I have to. It's my fault this is happening."

"Lady Teirra, no it is not." The knight pronounced each word carefully, making sure she heard him.

"You don't understand. And I'm not an idiot." She told him again, harder this time.

Alan stepped back, releasing her and folded his arm across his chest, clearly put off. "Then explain it to me, to us."

Teirra looked around her. By now Jak and Wyhon had joined her brother and Iris in watching her. She didn't like being the center of such a watchful crowd. She sighed, her anger beginning to fade. "I can't."

Alan frowned and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of earshot of the others. "Then tell me, or so help me, I will find a post and tie you to it."

Teirra looked into those hard, green eyes and shuttered. She knew he would and no one would stop him, certainly not Taex or Iris, if anything, they would help him with the ropes. She bit her lip. "I could have ended this. I was only a few steps from him. I could have reached out and just killed him. None of this would have happened."

"What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?" He watched her intently.

Shame brought her eyes downward, forcing her to look up through her eyelashes. "I knew he was trouble, this Grufford, or Master Hale. I thought he killed my mother. I wanted him dead, Sir Alan, so dead."

"So you went to kill him, but you didn't. Teirra, by not killing him, you didn't set this into motion. If not Grufford, it would have been someone else. Going to get yourself killed, isn't going to solve it." Alan told her gently.

"I have to end this. You have to understand that I have to do this." Teirra pleaded with him. If he didn't understand, she didn't know who would. Certainly not Taex, she knew all to well. Honor drove him as much as it drove her.

Alan watched her silently, his face hard and unreadable. Teirra couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking and praying that he would see her point. It may not be honorable, but she had to do it. Grufford could not be allowed to survive this and gain more troops to his cause because he had "defeated" the Lioness and her troops.

Finally, he drew a breathe and let it out slowly. "They're mounting an attack mid-afternoon today. My mother's leading it. I won't be here to watch over Domitran. You will. I am commanding you to watch over him and if you leave camp, Lady Teirra, I will not shield you from my mother."

"What? Why won't you help me? You have to see..." She looked at him confused. Had she heard him right?

"I do see, but I can see the consequences much more clearly than you. I'm not going to let you do this. Domitran will keep you occupied." A hint of amusement drifted into his eyes.

Teirra's face fell considerably. She wanted to help, she wanted to end all this suffering. "I don't do well with blood." She muttered weakly.

"You will do fine. Domitran is in that tent there." He motioned to a tent a few feet to her left.

Teirra nodded dutifully. "Of course, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Please, drop the 'Sir.' It makes me sound old." Alan smiled over his shoulder at her slightly as he started to leave..

"Of course, sir." Teirra felt defeated and helpless.

As he left, Taex, Iris, Wyhon and Jak came up beside her. Taex patted her shoulder slightly, not knowing the full extent of why she was so upset. He knew would, she decided. She would never tell him.

Teirra shrugged off her brother's comfort as gently as she could. She was far too disappointed to deal with concern at this moment. She would apologize later, but not now. Instead she just headed for Domitran's tent and slipped in quietly.

"Thank everything you're not Alan," Domitran greeted her. He was propped up so he could be sitting. He looked almost as good as new. It must kill him just as much to be sitting in camp while the others fought.

Teirra offered him a sad smile, the best she could manage. She bowed slightly to him. "Sir Domitran, I'm sorry you were injured."

The big knight smiled it off. "Another story for the ladies to woo over."

Teirra only nodded. The knight's humor couldn't lift her poor mood. She was hurt that Alan wouldn't see her side and help her. She thought he would understand.

"What troubles good Lady Teirra, Queen's Rider?" He asked dramatically.

"You could be a Player, Sir Domitran with all your dramatics and quips." She remarked.

"A Knight Player indeed." Domitran laughed lightly. "I have to do something to keep that smile on your face."

Teirra came to sit beside him. She bent to retrieve a waterskin and offered it to him.

He pushed it aside. "I don't need tending. Alan is overcautious. No doubt he ordered you here."

Teirra looked down. "For a much different reason, I'm afraid."

"He's overcautious and protective. It stems from the fact that he can't always protect his mother. He stifles his friends instead." Domitran replied good heartedly.

"But I'm not his friend. The likes of me cannot be with the likes of you or Sir Alan." Teirra mumbled.

A knight laughed. "I've never heard of such a timid Rider. Most of you are Players in the making. Of course you are counted among us as a friend." He shook his head. "Silly girl."

The comment brought a flush to her cheeks. She had never hoped for such friends. It made the earlier hurt a little more bareable.

The commotion outside made them look to the tent's entrance. Those who would accompany the Lioness' campaign were gathering to leave. They were quick to prepare as a good unit and within moments the sounds were drifting away from the camp. It was quick and efficient, as they had all trained to be.

"Help me up." Domitran shifted.

"What?" Teirra looked at him, confused.

"Help me up," he repeated. "I'm not going to sit here. We're going to get into the castle and find out how that Grufford man escaped."

Teirra's heart leaped. "We? That got us in trouble last time."

"We won't be near danger, just solving a mystery. And without Alan's watchful eyes." Domitran struggled up.

Teirra went to help him. It was sound logic in any matter. They could probably make it back before the battle was over.

_

* * *

Author's note: Ugh, this chapter wasn't that great, so please forgive me. Nor am I good at getting my characters out of the mess I create for them. I only hope I can do it here. Now comes the complicated part... I also worry about my portrayal of Alan, but I don't know of any real cannon material to back up a personality, so..._


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven: No words to speak...**_

_Be brave, little one.__  
Keep your spirit from harm.__  
Be brave, little one.__  
Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when she was a baby._

* * *

"You should be resting, Sir Domitran." Teirra insisted once again as she helped steady the horse she had found for him. It was the arrogant stallion that had come to assist them in the woods in their last adventure.

"Nonsense. You had to bring him?" The big knight motioned toward Jak, who was settling the knight's saddle.

"He was keeping the horses. If we left him behind he would inform Wyhon who would alert the Lioness. We can't have that." Teirra patted the horse's neck.

"You'll need help if you run into trouble. Three heads are better than two." Jak pointed out.

"I hope we don't run into trouble." Teirra conceded, vividly remembering their previous experience. She didn't want to see that happen again. In fact, as much as she wanted to find Grufford, she would prefer to remain at camp as she was told.

"We won't. We're just doing some scavenging and scouting work. You do it all the time. Mount up, Riders." Domitran shifted in his saddle as the horse turned about.

Teirra cast a worried glace at Jak who merely shrugged in reply. There would be no help from his direction. Jak clearly wanted some action of any kind. A part of her sympathized with that. She followed behind her friend and mounted Prancer.

It took them a bit of time to circle around to the rear of Slate Coast. Domitran kept them away from direct sight to avoid being mistaken as the enemy, though he displayed his shield in any matter. Teirra was used to sneaking about. They kept to the forest trees, focusing on any tracks they could find. Their hunch was that if Grufford went to and from the castle frequently, there may be a hidden path. It made sense.

"Here." Jak stopped and slipped from his saddle smoothly. He went and knelt near the ground.

Teirra followed suit and went to Jak's side, but remained standing to keep a watch on foot. It also allowed her to see the path more clearly. "A path. He didn't have the sense to hide it."

"I don't see much." Domitran admitted, coming up beside them on horseback.

"The flattened blades of grass here and the brush moved aside over there. Not much, but something." Jak pointed out.

"Alright, let's tie up the horses and follow." Domitran suggested, then caught Teirra's glance. "We'll be quiet."

"You will?" She raised a bow and almost smirked.

Domitran flashed a smile, catching her teasing tone. "I will."

Teirra sighed, still apprehensive, but did as she was told. Domitran was a superior officer and was giving an order, honor told her to obey.

She tied Prancer to the tree in the best knot she could. She didn't want the horse to come running after her. Teirra assured the worried horse that no harm would come. He would be safe there and she would be safer without him following her into the woods.

"Let's go." Domitran waved to her as he and Jak started into the woods. They were already well on their way when she started after them. She still wasn't sure about this trip. She glanced over her shoulder almost expecting Alan to see marching after them, angry and disappointed that she disobeyed.

She was committed into following them now and did so with her full attention. She became as she was trained to be, a scout and the best in her group. Teirra glanced around her and watched the corner of her eyes for any movement that was out of the ordinary. The forest seemed quiet, as if they knew trouble was brewing only a few miles away and they needed to stay hidden. It was just as well for Teirra.

"Teirra!" Domitran whispered to her harshly and she hurried to his side so he didn't have to talk louder than necessary. "Up head. Jak came back and reported a camp. I think that's our best shot."

Teirra stiffened. "Yes, I suppose it is. Just, I beg you sir, don't step on any twigs. I want to get back before Sir Alan does. He'll be furious." She nearly winced at herself. It sounded far too like her brother.

Domitran smiled and patted her shoulder gently. "Don't worry. It will be fine. I'll stay back here if it helps."

Teirra smiled in return. It was hard to stay tense with Domitran's easy nature so close. "Alright."

Slowly, she crept up as close as she would dare to the little camp. There, several, if not a dozen men sat together. They talked, much too low for Jak or herself to hear much and motioned toward the ground. Teirra guessed it was a make-shift map. Near the center sat Grufford, comfortably speaking Scanran from the looks of it. Teirra's blood stirred hot with anger. This man sat so comfortably while others died for him and because of him. She had to bite her tongue to keep quiet.

Jak motioned to her that the Scanran's were discussing the battle going on. Teirra was grateful that Jak knew some of that language. At least one of them wasn't completely in the dark as to what was going on.

"One of them is scrying." The voice came from behind as Domitran snuck up.

Teirra turned her head to look at him. "I thought you were going to stay back, sir."

"I was." He smiled. "But I couldn't keep myself still."

Teirra nodded silently and turned her attention back to the camp where Grufford sat. "Scrying?"

"Yes. It's what the Gifted ones do. We'd best be careful. They could be looking for us." Domitran whispered, then moved away to take a position on one side of the camp. It was much the same formation that they had used with Alan in their last scouting mishap. It was eerie to Teirra.

_Men!_ A warning from Prancer sounded in her head like a huge bell. Teirra nearly jumped out of her very skin before she relayed the message to her friends. Jak nodded in reply and slipped into the foliage as if he were some woodland nymph. Domitran on the other hand, merely backed the way he had come. At least he was much quieter than she would have hoped.

Teirra slowly backed away and turned, still eyeing the camp. When her eyes snapped around, they caught the sight of a large, dirty Scanran, who growled a welcome. He raised a large hand to hit her, but she ducked under and made a run for it.

The Scanran was quicker than his bulk suggested and he turned in time to catch her arm and fling her to the ground roughly. It was a clumsy fall that left Teirra struggling to pull herself to her feet in time to avoid another swinging grasp.

She reached into her belt to grab one of the knives she had stuffed there when she was so angry. Teirra maintained a careful distance from the man. The man raised his arm to hit her and she raced in to slash at the incoming arm, cutting a shallow, but painful cut. But she had used too much of her own momentum to get herself back into a balanced stance in time and he grabbed a hold of her belt and swung her around until she fell.

Struggling to put her feet beneath her, a man came from behind and placed a knife to her throat and grabbed her wrist that held her own knife. Teirra froze on instinct.

"Drop the blade, lass." Whoever the man was, he spoke without a Scanran accent. Teirra reluctantly obeyed. "Now, to your feet, without a fuss." He pulled her up.

_Prancer! Please, help!_ She cried feebly, knowing that the horse couldn't pull free of his restraints. She kicked herself for doing such a good job at the knot. Teirra could have used his help about now.

"Walk." The voice ordered.

Teirra locked her knees, determined not to move, no matter how afraid she felt. She wasn't going to be a willing prisoner. Her honor would not let her give in. _Be brave,_ she told herself sternly.

"Walk!" A knee came up to her back in a sharp pain that made her wince.

When she opened her eyes, Grufford stood before her, smirking. "It must kill you not to know how I got here, my lady."

Teirra glared daggers at the man before her who was the cause of so much of her anger and her drive to get to the place she was. "You are dishonorable, I am sure you found some horrible way to escape. Unfortunately, I don't believe you will be walking free for long."

Grufford laughed lightly. "Ever your mother's daughter, I see. You're father would never waste words." Then he looked beyond her to the man keeping her captive. "Bring her to camp. You, set up the field. I don't want her friends scrying for her and finding her. I believe we have found a wonderful tool that could lead to our victory."

Teirra's mouth dropped in alarm, though no words came out for a few, long moments. "I will not be a 'tool'. I will not help you."

"Of course you won't, my lady. I won't expect you to corporate. You won't have to, pretty little horse-girl. They'll come looking for you." Grufford smirked at her as she struggled against the man that held her.

"It would be easier to kill her." The man behind her grumbled.

"In time. Gag her and let's move." Grufford turned on his heel.

A rough cloth pulled tight around her mouth, muffling anything she tried to say. She was half-dragged, half-carried, back to the camp she'd been spying on, her heels digging into the ground whenever she could to stall. Finally, the man, frustrated, threw her to the ground in a wind breaking fall. She didn't see much else, when her world went dark. Teirra's best guess was that the cloth had some chemical in it. Teirra hated that.

_

* * *

Author's note: Deep breathe… I only hope this chapter fits with the rest. I have a plan, don't worry, but then again, I had a plan before than changed. I __do_ have at least the next two after this planned, so that should help things. Let's all hope I know what I am doing. I just hate how late this update is. This chapter has been written for at least two weeks, but you know how new computers are and switching files over has been consuming. But good news, I plan to update regularly until this is finished, whenever that may be. Deep breathe… I only hope this chapter fits with the rest. I have a plan, don't worry, but then again, I had a plan before than changed. I have at least the next two after this planned, so that should help things. Let's all hope I know what I am doing. I just hate how late this update is. This chapter has been written for at least two weeks, but you know how new computers are and switching files over has been consuming. But good news, I plan to update regularly until this is finished, whenever that may be. 


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter Twelve: Lost and Found...**_

_Stand strong, even when you feel weak.__  
Keep your head up and your eyes open.__  
You never know how others will take that._

_Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when had been teased._

* * *

Teirra woke sometime during the early morning hours, groggy and feeling a little nausea. She would have rubbed her head had she not discovered that her wrists were bound behind her. She leaned back against the post she was tied to and thought back to the threat Alan had made a day before and wistfully wished she were there instead of Grufford's camp, at least she remembered that much.

Her legs felt stiff beneath her, making her shift restlessly, trying to relieve the uncomfortable pain. Teirra realized then that she was alone with only Grufford sitting watch smugly before her. She froze in an instant, staring at him.

"I can bet that you hate me, Lady Teirra." Grufford smirked at her and poked at the fire.

"Betting isn't honorable." She replied simply, her voice hoarse from the early morning and the drugs that had knocked her out.

Grufford laughed at her. "No, I don't suppose it is, my lady."

"Let me go." Teirra looked hopelessly at him. She didn't expect him to let her go, but she was at least trying.

"I can't do that. You have powerful friends." Grufford returned his attention to the fire.

"That won't matter. They know that no matter what, they will not give in to whatever you are asking of them." Teirra replied, feeling small at the truth.

_Friends!_ She cried out to the horses near the camp. _Help, please! They'll kill me. Please, help and I promise you will be cared for. I have not gone back on my promises yet._

A few of the horses stirred, catching Grufford's attention. He threw down the stick he had been poking the fire with and stalked toward the horses tied to the posts. He drew a knife and brought it close to the horse's neck.

"If you think to have them help you, I will slaughter each and every one of them I can lay my hands on and any horse after that. You will be the cause of their death." Grufford stared hard at her.

Teirra felt lost at his threat. She couldn't call on the only friends she had every really trusted or risk their lives. She couldn't risk their lives for her own. Teirra felt as if her heart were being twisted inside her.

Grufford smirked again and stepped away from the posts. "A good threat always works with a woman."

Teirra narrowed her eyes and put as much hatred in them as she could muster. The hate was dulled somewhat by the chill that was sticking to her skin in the damp air. Involuntarily, she shivered.

A few men came into her view, which was limited in the camp. Grufford rose to meet them and for the first time, Teirra noticed that he limped slightly on the leg that was broken by Prancer. Teirra would have smirked at that if she hadn't been tied to a post in Grufford's camp.

"What is it?" Grufford growled at the camp.

The man answered in Scanran, which annoyed Tierra a little, but she expected nothing else. Grufford stiffened and turned to her with a look that made her shrink back against the post. It must not have been the best news he had received and while that made her feel a little better, she didn't want to feel his wrath without being able to fight back.

Grufford stalked toward her and stopped to kneel in front of her, his faces inches from her own. "Keep your little horse talk to yourself, my lady. If I find out, and I will, that you have contacted your friends that way, I will kill one of these horses."

Teirra swallowed hard. "I didn't."

"Good." Grufford seemed satisfied by her answer and, with some difficulty, rose and went to his men. "Blindfold her. I don't want her to gain any hope." He looked back at her. "There isn't any."

Teirra was confused. Why would she need to be blind? She prayed that they weren't moving camp. Then her friends wouldn't be able to find her. She would be on her own with a man who killed without remorse.

Her world went dark as the rough cloth was tied tightly around her head. The weave was tight, so not even a hint of light penetrated. Teirra shook her head a few times, but nothing made the unending black change.

Grufford grabbed her chin roughly, holding her face in a hold that made her wince. "Enjoy the darkness, horse-witch, you will remain there." He shoved her face away, knocking her head back into the post behind her.

"Gag her, as well. Feed her once a day, the bare minimum." Grufford ordered.

Teirra let out a little cry of surprise that was cut short by another rough piece of cloth wrapped around her mouth. She felt miserable and even more upset with the man she should have killed when she had the chance. She could only pray to be rescued.

The next moments for Teirra were nothing more than a chaotic symphony of sound. Men shouted, both in Scanran and her own language. There was the sound of clashing metal and the shuffling of feet in dirt and grass. She couldn't tell what was going on, but she had a pretty good guess, or at least a pretty good hope.

Teirra pulled at her ties, feeling the rough rope around her wrists burn. She tossed her head, trying to free her mouth and struggled to get her feet untangled from underneath her. Whatever was going on, Teirra thought that if she freed herself, she could just escape.

In her struggle, Teirra found herself free. Her bonds were cut, she knew that much from the sound behind her. Someone dragged her to her feet, which felt stiff and awkward. Her capture shoved and dragged her forward and away from the sounds that gave her such hope.

Teirra kicked and in one kick, found herself free and on the ground. Crawling as fast as she could, she headed toward the sounds. Unfortunately, the man was quicker and had her on her feet once more.

"Stop, Grufford!"

Teirra's hope rose at the sound of Alan's voice and then her fury rose at Grufford. How dare this man hold her!

Grufford whirled around, taking Teirra with him and holding her before him like a shield. "You can't do anything to me. I have her!" He tightened his hold on her.

"Don't be a coward. Let the girl go." Alan's voice was calm and authoritative.

"I won't be killed by some boy. Oh!" Grufford fell forward, landing on Teirra's right half. She moaned through her gag and shoved the man away from her.

Teirra laid on the ground for a moment before strong arms hulled her to her feet and held her until she had her baring. It was a relief when gag and blindfold were cut and she could see and work her mouth once more.

The first thing she searched for was Grufford, who had disappeared once more. "Where is he?"

"He ran off like a coward. We'll find him, don't worry. Let's get back before my mother finds out what I have done before I can explain it to her." Alan grabbed her arm gently and pulled her towards a figure who crashed his way through to her.

"Prancer!" Teirra was the happiest she'd been in a few days, at least. Prancer on the other hand was less than thrilled. He nudged her enough to move her and snorted in her face.

"My mother, remember?" Alan glared at her.

"Yes, of course, sir." Teirra nodded.

Teirra noticed a letter resting on her packs back at camp. It felt odd to be back at camp where things proceeded so normally. Domitran avoided her whereas Jak had apologized to her at least a dozen times in the last hour. Nothing she said would calm their guilt. It didn't matter, anyway. Teirra was only to go out and find the man who was responsible for all this chaos.

Sighing, she sat herself down beside her things and took out her smallest knife which she used for her food and to open letters, which was what she was doing at that moment. The seal was her father's, which made her worry slightly. She hoped everything back home was doing just fine.

_**Teirra, dearest daughter,**_

**_Rough times have befallen our fief. We lost dearly in the attack that took your mother away from us so untimely and horribly. Our crops are doing poorly and many of our exports are bringing in poor revenues. You don't need to worry about the details._**

**_It is unfortunate that I must inform you of my decision to try and remedy this problem. You must be betrothed, my child. Taex and I have been searching for the perfect suitor for you. He has recently been talking with the Count of Slate Coast, Samual. He is a promising…_**

Teirra didn't read more. She couldn't read more. Teirra let the letter fall to the ground in her shock. Being married meant that she couldn't be a Queen's Rider. Her dreams would be lost because she was a woman and a daughter to a man who needed a rich son-in-law. Anger replaced the shock and it was directed to her brother.

_

* * *

Author's note: This was a challenging chapter… I know I say that about each one, but this one was one of the top. I couldn't believe how challenging writing this has been. It should have been easier._


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter Thirteen: Let it end...**_

_One door always opens when another is shut.__  
It is up to you to honor your dreams by accepting that.__  
Hope is always here._

_Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when Taex went to be a page._

* * *

Teirra found Taex sitting by the evening fire with Commander Opion, Wyhon, Iris and Alan. They were laughing over some joke that Iris had told, everyone except Opion whom Teirra did not expect to laugh. He was far too serious for that sort of thing. She walked over to them and stood behind the group, facing her brother across from the fire.

He looked up, still laughing. His laughter stopped when he looked at her face. "Teirra?" He moved to stand.

"You knew?" Teirra asked quietly, her voice filled with anger and hurt. The others turned to look at her curiously.

"Knew what?" Taex stared at her quizzically for a moment before realization dawned on him a moment. "Teirra, father asked me not to say anything."

"So you were just going to let me keep believing my dreams could come true? Taex, I could have come to grips with this before now! I could have had time to… To do something." Teirra stared at him with eyes filled with hurt and anger.

"It isn't the end." Taex told her gently. "I'm only doing as he asked. How do you know?"

Teirra could do nothing but stare. It was the end for everything she had wanted to be. It was different for him, he was on this way to becoming a knight. She would never get that chance. All she had were the Queen's Riders and now that was being taken away from her. It was her identity that he was taking from her.

Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she drew deep breathes to calm herself. Then she reached into her jacket where she had stuffed the crumbled letter. She raised it to her face so he could see it and let it drop to the ground. Teirra turned and left the camp fire behind her.

It would end tonight, she decided. It could not go on any longer. She went to Prancer and simply slid onto his back as he patiently knelt for her. Teirra sat there silently for a moment before Prancer nudged her with his nose on her knee.

"Where is he?" She asked darkly.

_I will ask, but you owe me quite a few apples by now._ Prancer remarked wryly. Teirra would have smiled were she not so focused on what she had to do. _You won't be allowed to be a Rider anymore._

"I know," she answered quietly, "but it doesn't matter anymore."

Prancer left the camp at a gallop, just missing Jak who was coming back from caring for the horses in her absence. Teirra paid little heed to him. She didn't have the time nor the patience to speak with her friend.

"Horse-girl!"

She leaned close to Prancer's neck as the horse picked up his pace, always careful of the trees he was running through. They broke into a clearing, a patch that must have been burned only a short time ago. Both horse and girl stood in desperation and indecision for a moment.

"I thought you knew?" Teirra asked at a whisper.

_I thought so._ Prancer answered indifferently.

Suddenly Prancer reared and gave a loud cry of pain, tossing Teirra back over his rump and onto the ground. She could think of nothing but trying to breathe for a moment and once she caught it, she flipped herself over and scrambled to Prancer's side, desperate to know what had caused her friend to toss her so carelessly.

The horse lay on the ground, an arrow deep in his shoulder. Teirra's hand wavered around the arrow shaft, tears stinging her eyes and running down her cheeks. Her determination was weakening with every shaky breathe the horse took. Prancer's head looked around at her and then rested back down. _Go, I'll be here._

Teirra's lips quivered and she bit them to keep them still. Slowly, she pushed away from her dear friend and stood. She stood there for a moment before turned around in a complete circle. She had to find him and make him pay. He was obviously close, so if she ran, she could find him.

She looked back at Prancer's wound and judged the direction the arrow had come from. Narrowing her eyes, she took off in that direction, ignoring the tiny twigs that tore at her arms and legs. They were mere cuts, nothing she couldn't survive. Prancer had suffered worse; her mother had suffered worse.

His footprints weren't hard to track. He wasn't looking to be secretive, only to escape; that would serve Teirra just fine. Let Grufford run while he could, she would catch him. She was tired of this man who made her hunt so easy.

An arrow whizzed in front of her and she whirled to face her attacker. He had set up a trap he knew she would walk right into. He stood firmly before her, crossbow still raised and bolt-less. He stared at her, cold and unfeeling. The lack of emotion struck her heart as if the bolt had actually hit her. She never expected a human being to be so cold facing any opponent.

Lazily he tossed his crossbow aside, not caring whatever it hit or whatever hit it. Teirra would not have tossed her crossbow as he had tossed his. Of course, there was that one time when she had first met Grufford, but she didn't think of that now. He drew his sword and smirked at her.

"So, it comes to it at last. There's no getting around it, either you will kill me or I will kill you. You are getting in my way far too much these days, and all for ridding you of your mother." Grufford shook his head and took a few steps toward her.

Teirra stared at him with a trembling heart. How dare he cast away so carelessly aside the woman she had held on such a high pedestal. She gripped the hilt of her sword and slowly drew it. She had been waiting for this moment for so many days and yet it was here and she found that she was terrified that she might actually kill this man. It went against her honor, her every fiber.

Grufford laughed at her heartily. "You can't do what you set out to do. How very weak of you. How very _honorable_ of you."

Teirra looked at the blade of the sword, so smooth and clean. She could just make out her own reflection, with tears running down her cheeks and dropping from her chin to land on the smooth metal. "I _am_ honorable; more than you."

"Oh, I don't deny it." Grufford came at her then, forcing her eyes and her sword upward to protect herself.

The man was stronger than she, swinging blows far harder than she, herself could ever inflict, no matter how she may have worked. She couldn't get an offensive attack. All Teirra could do was defend herself. She didn't remember him being that aggressive that day that Sereous was killed.

She ducked below a high swing and danced around Grufford, kicking a foot at his knee. He went down, kneeling, but only for a moment and quick enough to block off her attack. The two parried, Teirra was just able to take offense a few times before she was forced back into a defensive position. If she had been watching this fight as a spectator, she would have bet on Grufford.

Grufford spun back around at her and Teirra tried to jump out of the way. She wasn't quick enough and paid a heavy price. The steel found her hip, slicing deeply into it. She jumped back in reaction and fell to the ground in sheer pain. Teirra struggled to catch her breath, which came raggedly and quickly. The pain was so intense, she had never felt anything quite so intense.

Grufford swung at her, meaning to kill her then, but she had brought herself to her knee and raised her sword to fend him off. Her grip was weak from blood loss and the sword flew out of her hands when it connected with Grufford's sword and strong swing.

Teirra fumbled to grab her dagger and a bolt that she always kept with her for emergencies, though she didn't know what help it would be now.. Grufford walked up to her as she held it before her, her face now pale and her hand shaking. "You were so strong before. They've weakened your heart," he muttered to her.

"They've… They've strengthened… it." Teirra whispered.

"No, my dear, pretty horse-girl, you are wrong. They've made her dependent upon them for help. They've made you into a tool. You're just another weapon in their arsenal." Grufford shook his head at her.

"What?" Teirra stared at him, confused by what he was telling her.

"You're only use is your 'wild magic.' You're nothing more. What use are you without it? You are just another soldier to die for them. You're just another silly girl that thought she could be a Keladry or an Alanna. You're not even close." Grufford glared at her. "They are nothing without the men that made them."

"Liar." She whispered.

"What?" He smirked at her. "I can't hear you, horse-girl."

"LIAR!" She shouted. "They are more than you would ever have been. They stood their ground against the 'men that made them.' They believed in their dream. They're stronger than you."

"But you're not." Grufford stood smugly before her.

Teirra opened her mouth to replied, but never had a chance to say anything. Hooves flew at Grufford, knocking him to the ground several feet from where he had been standing. Teirra, forcing herself to move, ran over to the crossbow and fitted her extra bolt to it.

She stalked over to where Grufford lay and turned him over with her boot. He looked up at her with hatred in his eyes. He reached for his sword, but she stepped on the blade and put her weight on it. She aimed the crossbow at his chest. "I looks as though I am stronger than you."

"But who's going to help you? You're bleeding. You won't last long." Grufford growled at her through clenched teeth.

Teirra looked at him, knowing he was right, but she had one gift that he didn't have: wild magic. She took as deep a breath as she could manage and reached out for a horse. She aimed for the camp, for the horses that she knew the best. Teirra found Wyhon's placid Redwood and Penelope's nervous Fidget near the closest edges of the camp.

_Friends!_ They looked up at the sound of her voice. _I need help; Prancer needs helps and quickly. Please get Wyhon, Redwood. I need him, please._

_What for?_ The older horse sighed, clearly not hearing the near panic in Teirra's cries.

_We've been hurt, please, Redwood, just this once. Please. I don't know who else to ask._ Teirra begged, feeling herself weaken as her wound went unattended. She didn't get a response, but she sensed that he was doing as she was told, however he planned to do that.

When Teirra came to her senses, Grufford was watching her carefully. She readjusted her stance to seem stronger, but the man wasn't fooled. He shoved at her, making her loose her balance and fall back. It was only by twisting herself that she managed to land of her good hip and keep the crossbow in her hand.

"I wouldn't." A dark voice came to her rescue. Grufford froze in place. "Dommy, watch him."

Teirra shifted to look at who had saved her. Domitran winked at her as he took up guard against Grufford and Alan was coming to kneel at her side. She could always trust the knights. "What took you?"

"Teirra, are you…" Alan stopped short when he saw the blood stain on her hip.

"Just a cut." She managed a small smile.

"I can clot it for now, but we have to get you back and quick." He told her firmly. "Now, relax."

Teirra took a deep breath and closed her eyes. If Alan did anything, she couldn't feel it. Of course, her hip had gone numb with so much pain a short time ago. When she opened her eyes, she had an urgency to find her dearest friend. _Prancer!_ When he didn't answer, she looked around wildly.

"Teirra…" Domitran stared from his position, but stopped. She had already found what he had been trying to protect from her.

Prancer lay on the ground unmoving; un-breathing. Teirra felt her heart stop. Desperately, she crawled over to the horse and cradled his large head in her hands. A different sort of pain overcame her, tearing at her soul.

"He's dead." Alan told her quietly, standing next to Domitran.

Teirra already knew. He had gone before she could have said good-bye. She stroked his muzzle lovingly, hardly touching him. "I wasn't ready. You said you'd been there. Why couldn't you have just stayed put. I need you." Her words were quiet as the tears fell from her dirt stained cheeks.

Several days later, Teirra sat on her cot, stitching up one of her coats that needed repair. Her hip had healed fine, though she had asked that the superficial had been left to heal on its own. She thought it always best to let the body heal itself when it could. The days were lonely without Prancer and she found herself slipping into a deep melancholy that she didn't wholly like.

Grufford was taken prisoner and would be tried for treason once they returned to Corus. The Lioness was leaving some of the King's Own behind to guard Slate Coast while the rest of them returned home for the trial. Teirra was not looking forward to it, but she knew that she could be a key witness.

"Teirra? You wanted to see me?" Commander Opion came and sat by her side stiffly. He had been one of her most constant visitors, despite what he would say.

"I did." Teirra set her sewing aside. Nervously she straightened the edges of her blanket until she found that she could speak once again. "I know what I did was stupid and could get be kicked out of the Riders. A Rider doesn't just run head-strong into a situation like I did. I would like nothing more than to be a Rider, you know that; half of the Own knows that. I would give anything, but I realized something over the last few days. I can't be a Rider. I can't be the one who runs into a situation and drags the group in after me to save me. I can't be the example that a Rider has to be to the people." She looked down at her hands. "I'll be eighteen in two weeks and I have to marry soon. I need to help my fief. My father can't do it anymore. I need to leave, commander. I have to leave." She let her tears fall into her hands.

Surprisingly, Opion rested his weathered hand into her hands. "Of course you do. Child, you are destined for so much more than the Queen's Riders. We need someone like you out there. You can do what we can't. Just remember Group Nobility."

Teirra looked up at him, his face shockingly gentle. "I will, trust me, I will." Encouraged, she leaned over and gave the hard man a hug. He awkwardly patted her back, making her laugh a little. "Thank you." He squeezed her hand and left.

_

* * *

Author's note: Oh, goodness, it is almost the end! What's a girl supposed to do! Well, it is a relief to have this chapter out of the way, but the most difficult chapter is next. All those horrible holes to fill… I guess I have to go and get my shovel… Stupid holes…_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter Fourteen: The joys of happiness...**_

_Don't be afraid of the happiness that comes your way.__  
Treasure what you have.__  
You never know, it may be exactly what you need._

_Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when she turned fifteen._

* * *

Teirra found she liked wearing dresses and found that her father liked having dresses made for her, more than she liked them. She still practiced at her archery every day for hours on end, and she still practiced with her sword, learning to fight in a dress. It was a challenge, more so than she would have thought. She had a new respect for those who wore dresses.

After Grufford was sentenced and Teirra begged for imprisonment for the rest of his life, she had gone home to Ninequor. She took some of the horses left behind by the Scanran's with her, including the smart talking stallion she called Twilight. He wasn't Prancer, but he was a good companion, despite his retorts. The Riders would now only be a memory that she cherished.

She missed the Riders terribly, but she could not go back on her decision and she would not. Her decision had been for the best, she knew that. Teirra couldn't continue with the Riders, not when she would be married soon and when she could cost the lives of her group every time she went off like she had so many times recently. Her last duty was to be at the trial.

She had never planed to returned to Corus once she left. Teirra had accepted the fact that she could only forestall marriage so long before her father demanded it from her and honor would drive her to obey. She couldn't face her friends again, not after leaving them. A part of her still felt like she was letting them down every day that she wasn't riding with Group Nobility. Only Taex could make her come back.

He wrote to her before his Ordeal, hoping she would be there when he left that horrible chamber. Of course she would; Teirra would never deny a request from her brother. Besides, she wanted to be there for his knighting. She would be the proudest sister in all of Tortall to see it, even if it felt bittersweet for her. It was her brother's time.

Teirra couldn't bare to wait outside the chamber doors for her brother, but she was at his side from that day until the day he officially became a knight. After, she decided to throw a small party, close friends only. She invited Domitran and Alan of course, Alyxander, Mattieu, the whole of Group Nobility and several other knights who were close to her brother. She didn't mention a word, nor did anyone else, when she "neglected" to invite the Count of Slate Coast.

It had been an enjoyable evening so far and Taex was thoroughly enjoying himself, as Teirra had hoped he would. She waited from the sides of the large room with a small smile of satisfaction. She wanted to cherish this memory and all the tiny details; tomorrow, she would be bound back home.

"Bittersweet?" Alan came to stand beside her, offering her a glass of warm cider.

Teirra smiled and took the offered glass, sipping carefully at the warm liquid she loved so much. "It reminds me of the winters with my mother."

"The party?" Alan laughed, deliberately not understanding her.

His little ploy worked, she laughed. "Oh, no. Mother never liked parties like this. She preferred only her family to keep her company. I meant the cider."

"Of course you did." Alan remarked and leaned against the wall beside, making her comfortable enough to do the same, even in her green velvet gown. "Gowns suit you."

"I have to be a lady now. Besides, I have found I rather like them, as long as they don't get in my way." Teirra smiled, feeling for once, content with the choice she had made. She would do alright as a lady. She would even be a great leader for her people when the time came. The ladies of Ninequor would know how to protect themselves better than any other in Tortall.

Alan gave a short laughed at that. "I meant, you look beautiful in them."

Teirra flushed bright red. "Thank you." She sipped at her drink, ducking her head slightly so that her black curls fell over her face.

"Has your father found you a suitable husband?" He asked the question casually, but Teirra looked up surprised.

"I don't know. I hope not. I'm just getting used to being a lady and not a Rider." Teirra looked at him.

"You can do both. Not necessarily as a Rider, but as woman. My mother does it, so does Queen Thayet and Lady Keladry." Alan told her. "Why settle to being just a wife."

Teirra frowned. "I don't plan to be 'just a wife.' I plan to be a great lady of my people. I plan to do a great many things. But I will honor my husband and he should honor me. My mother was not 'just a wife.' I won't be either. I will educate the ladies in Ninequor about how to defend themselves. Perhaps the next Lady Knight will come from my home."

Alan raised a hand. "I didn't mean to offend. You just have so much potential."

Teirra took a deep breathe and let it out slowly. "I hope so. I hope to reach it. A woman doesn't have to be a great legend to make a difference."

"It helps." Alan told her pointedly.

"Yes, it does." Teirra conceded with a smile. "But I'm not a legend."

"You could have been. The greatest Queen's Rider, even the commander one day." Alan looked into his glass.

"I will be great, in my own way." Teirra told him, watching her friend with curiosity. "Why do you care?"

Alan looked up as if he hadn't heard her. "What?"

"Why do you care, Sir Alan?" Teirra repeated patiently.

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed. Teirra couldn't imagine that the question was as difficult as it was appearing to be. She certainly didn't expect it to be. "You're my friend, Lady Teirra, and I care."

"Oh," was all she could say. The answer seemed insufficient for the time it took to reach it. Teirra didn't know how to react to it.

"I don't want to see you married to someone who wouldn't let you reach your potential." Alan continued on, not meeting her eyes, but watching the party.

"I don't have that control, nor you, sir." Teirra pointed out to him politely.

"I could." He remarked quietly.

Teirra looked at him, with a confused expression. She wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. "Come again?"

"I could control who." He repeated, equally as quiet as before and still looking out at their friends.

"What do you mean?" Teirra stared at him, turning herself to face him and forgetting about the cider in her hand. "How can you do that?"

Alan was silent for a long while, so long that Teirra was afraid that he hadn't heard her, or had decided to let the conversation go. Deciding the later was the case, Teirra turned to leave. "A marriage of convenience."

"Of convenience," she turned back and frowned, not liking the sound of what he was saying. "I want more than convenience."

"Not convenience, more like friendship and in time, perhaps love." Alan finally turned to look at her with eyes that seemed so fragile, something she could not fathom in his eyes.

"What are you saying, Alan? I need a little more than riddles." Teirra stood frozen in place. He couldn't possibly be hinting at what she thought he was hinting at, could he?

"I would honor you. I would let you do as you wished. We're friends are we not?" He waited for her to nod before continuing. "We care for each other. We have saved each other a number of times. We tolerate each other, perhaps not my mother, but- You wouldn't have to live with a stranger."

"Are you… You can't be saying… Alan?" Teirra couldn't even put together a sentence.

"I could learn to love you. For all I know, I could be in love with you right now." Alan stared at her with an intensity that made her take a small step back.

"Alan, I couldn't do that to you." Teirra shook her head.

"Do what? You wouldn't be doing anything to me. I have to marry; I'm not blind to that. I would rather marry you than any other girl out there." Alan took her hand.

"I want more than friendship." Teirra closed her eyes to him.

"Why can't we? I would love you, I'm certain. You could come with me. We could save Tortall together. You and me." Alan reached up and touched her cheek.

"Oh, Alan." Teirra felt tears brimming her eyes. She would like nothing more than to marry Alan, he was her friend and the man she wanted to save her when she was in trouble. "Your mother hates me, I'm certain."

"No, she doesn't. My father would love you, Thom would love you. Aly is a little more difficult, but she's too much like our mother than she'd admit. Teirra, marry me." Alan took the glass of cider from her and held her hands. Teirra felt a tear snake down her cheek. "Is that a yes?"

Teirra nodded her head. "Of course. I'd be insane not to."

Alan smiled at her. "Good. I don't need an insane friend. I have enough as it is."

She laughed and he took her up in his arms and turned her around, her green dress billowing out. He set her down gently and caressed her cheek with his hand. He bent and kissed her gently. "I will make you happy."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Teirra whispered.

"I do." He smiled and kissed her sweetly, once more.

"What's going on here?" Domitran walked over to them and clapped Alan on the shoulder in the good natured way that he always had about him.

"Alan has just proposed something crazy." Teirra remarked with a smile, feeling giddy inside.

"Oh, just crazy? Alan, my lad, you are slacking in your old age." Domitran laughed heartily.

"No, I don't believe so, Dommy. I plan to marry our lovely Lady Teirra." Alan took Teirra's hand, clasping it tightly and bringing her hand to his lips.

Domitran was silent for a moment, before clapping Alan on the shoulder once again and with the biggest smile. "Oh ho! This is great news! Now, my lady, you'll have to keep an eye on this boy. He'll run you mad."

"I will." Teirra couldn't keep the smile from her face. She couldn't believe she could feel this happy after all that had happened in the recent months.

"Good. Now for a proper announcement." Domitran turned away from them to face their friends. Alan raised a hand to stop his friend, but Domitran wouldn't hear it. "No, no, you need one. Ladies and Gents!" The group turned to look at Domitran, who didn't need a box to stand on to raise above the rest of them. "I have the most delightful news."

"And what's that, Dommy? You've hit the mark at the archery fields?" Mattieu joked lightly about his friend.

Domitran shot him a look before waving it off. "No, no! My dear friends, Sir Alan and our delightful, Lady Teirra have decided it is about time they are engaged to be married."

The room was quiet for a moment before shouts of congratulations when up. Taex pushed through to stand before them, smiling like the proud brother he was. Teirra released Alan's hand to walk up to him.

"This was your night, I'm sorry." She apologized.

Taex laughed. "My time was being knighted, your time is being engaged. Just think, father won't have to remember two dates. Congradulations. You saved me a lot of trouble." He looked over her shoulder at Alan. "Take care of her. I only have one little sister."

"I will." Alan came to stand at her side. "I always will." He took her in his arms and, in front of her brother, kissed her so passionately that she had to catch her breathe.

_

* * *

Author's note: The end! I honestly don't know what to do with myself now. This was a hard chapter to right, very hard. I wasn't sure I wanted to end it this way and I hope it is alright. It's sad, I had become so attached to these characters._


	15. Chapter 15

_**Closing : The Letter...**_

_My mother always gave me good advice, the best I have yet heard in my lifetime and I will always hold true to that. She taught me everything that ever got me through the roughest of times and I thank her for that. My mother, Lady Tamaida of Galla, was a hero that never saw her recognition. Remember that where you're older._

_The Riders gave me the best time I could have ever hoped for and so much more. They gave me companionship in my darkest times, and strength to get through those tough days I thought I would crumble. I learned survival, courage, strength, determination and most of all: Leadership. I didn't have to be afraid of myself anymore. There is such comfort in that._

_I had been afraid all of my life until then. I was afraid of those voice in my head, of the horses I loved so much. Somehow, knowing that I was in the presence of the extraordinary, made me believe that I could do it. It shouldn't have taken that to make me see, but it did. I should have looked deep into my own heart and saw what I had there and welcomed it. I should have._

_Life is full of "should haves" and "what ifs" and I am determined not to see them anymore. I banish them from my mind. I am happy how it all worked out, why should I look back and wonder what could have been when that "could have been" might have made me miserable? You wouldn't want that._

_I didn't expect to marry him, oh, no. He was far too above my station for me to ever think of him. But life has a funny way about it, my mother said that once. Marrying him didn't end my career, of course I couldn't be a Rider anymore and I had to take care of Ninequor now, but my new life as the Lady of Ninequor is so much more fulfilling. Remember I said that and hold me to that._

_They would have made an exception for me, I know and you will ask why over and over again did I not accept. I'll tell you: I didn't need the Riders anymore. I had my proof that I could be strong. Besides, with the Lioness as a Mother-in-law, I'm pretty sure I will be busy from time to time. Understand that, please, when I am gone and helping her or Sir Domitran or your father.._

_As for honor, my undying driving force, I have learned what it means. Honor is believing in yourself to do what is right when the time comes and doing it. It isn't shying away from it because the alternative is easier. My father, Lord Dickens, drilled such an unwavering sense of honor into myself and Sir Taex. Keep it close to your heart as well. It will be hard, but it will serve you well._

_There is so much I want to say, that I have left to say, but I don't know how to say it. I wish I did. I suppose if you're reading this, you don't much care if your mother is droning on and on. I'm sorry I've left you. There are no amount of "I'm sorry" that will ever change that._

_Mind your manners, and your honor. Don't use your tricks just for amusement, not all of the time, anyway. Mind the horses, they can be smarter than you. Follow your heart and remember where you came from. Your father knows best, mind him, I beg._

'_Do what you must, but always remember where you come from. Respect others as you respect yourself, that is a strong virtue. Honor your family, but honor yourself.' My mother said that, so remember that, too._

_I love you dearly and forever,_

_Teirra, Lady of Ninequor._

Teirra read the letter back to herself and sighed. It was such a pathetic attempt at a good letter and she knew they would want more. They deserved more.

Sighing once more, she folded the letter up and set her wax seal firmly to close it. She addressed it in slender, curving letters to her children: Mattieu, Gregory, and Tamaida with the words, "To open after death." She blew on the ink for it to dry.

"Teirra?" Alan leaned in the doorway, little Gregory, just learning to walk, tugging at his hands.

Teirra turned around and smiled widely at her husband. "Look at Gregory, all grown-up now." She cooed to her youngest child lovingly.

"Teirra, are you alright?" The knight asked her worriedly.

Teirra nodded, just realizing that her eyes were filling with tears. She blinked them back. "Yes, I am quite alright."

"Good, Mother will be arriving soon." Alan warned her, then scooped up his son and went off down the hall.

Teirra sighed. _Let the Lioness come, I will prepare for it._

_So will I,_ the soft voice of Twilight mused in her head.

_

* * *

Author's Final Note: I never thought I'd finish this. It has been a long and sometimes weary road to walk, finishing a tale, even if it is fanfiction. I hope you are not too disappointed with the ending, even if it is a bit cliche. This story has been my heart and soul for some time and it wasn't until the very end that I saw how it would end. _

I set out only to write, at the most, a five chapter mini-story. It was never meant to be anything more, just a bit of dabbling really. Stories have a funny way of taking themselves away from the writer.

I had thought about the ending to this story for so long with so many different outcomes. I contemplated killing her off, trapping her in an unhappy marriage, having Taex go insane at the Ordeals, and having her leave for Galla. I stopped when I realized that I was trying to force an ending that didn't fit. This story wasn't a story I could control.

Teirra has been one of the most difficult characters to write. Especially when I tried to keep her focused on her honor and revenge all at once and I wanted her to be humorous and interesting. It is a true challenge to write that, especially with so many characters coming in and out.

I'd like to give a big thanks to all those that took the time to read and review my work. Those reviews actually helped spur this tale into completion. Thank You to:

**Clair-a-net****  
Random Chou****  
SAXandCLARINETgrl****  
random89****  
Randomisation****  
Rosefighter****  
HyperKathryne  
Moonprincess202  
Pure777christine**


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